


Miraculous Drabbles

by callmecirce, Warbond (callmecirce)



Series: Miraculous One-Shots [6]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2018-11-07 19:13:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 50
Words: 37,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11065350
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmecirce/pseuds/callmecirce, https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmecirce/pseuds/Warbond
Summary: This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr.  Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes.  I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.MOST of these are appropriate for T+; those that are mature or explicit will be clearly labeled as such.





	1. LadyNoir, "Linger"

Chat Noir landed softly on the rooftop behind his partner, surprised that she hadn’t disappeared immediately into the anonymity of her civilian life, as she usually did. “My lady? Is everything ok?”

“Hmm?” Ladybug blinked slowly, and dragged her attention from the Paris skyline to focus on her partner’s concerned face. “Oh, hello Chat.”

He took in the tense set of her shoulders and her pensive expression, and felt more certain that something was bothering her. “Are you alright? It’s rare for you to linger after a battle like this.”

“Oh, yes, I’m—I’m fine. Just lost in thought.”

“I guess you’ve already recharged, then?”

She nodded. “ Tikki couldn’t have gotten me home without it, and since I don’t have to rush back…” She trailed off with a shrug.

He tilted his head curiously. “Are you…avoiding something?” He hazarded.

“Something like that.”

“Would you like some company?” He stepped closer to her but didn’t touch her. He was unsure of his reception. “I could linger with you.”

“I’d like that, minou.” She leaned back against him with a sigh. “Thanks.”

His cheeks warmed at the unexpected endearment, and he timidly put his arm around her shoulders. “Of course, my lady.”


	2. Adrienette, "Is this what drowning feels like?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

Marinette slipped out the side door, with Tikki safely stowed in her purse and munching on a cookie. All she had to do now was to circle back around to the front and rejoin her friends. She still had her arm band, surely the bouncer would let her back in, right?

“Mari?”

She snapped her head up to see Adrien striding into the alley, with a strange expression on his face. “Adrien, what—?”

“Marinette! Are you ok?” He walked right up to her, crowding into her space, and cupped her face with his hands, examining her now un-blemished jaw. “Jesus, what were you thinking?”

Oh. He must have seen her go after the akuma before she transformed, and take that hit. She thought only Chat had seen that. “I’m fine, Adrien, Ladybug’s cure took care of it.”

He stroked his thumb over the place where she’d been hit, and shifted his gaze to meet her eyes. There was some intense emotion there that she couldn’t name. Her lips parted, and his eyes dropped to her mouth. “Oh, fuck,” he breathed, and lowered his mouth to hers.

Marinette was frozen for a moment, thoughts of Chat and their stolen kisses on her balcony flitting through her mind, but this was _Adrien_. She began to kiss him back, and it was like a dam had broken. He swept his tongue into her mouth, backed her against the outer wall of the club, and all thought was soon washed away on a tide of passion.

It was too much.

Too much, too fast, but she was powerless to fight it and really had no desire to do so anyway.

He had her pinned to the wall with his body, her weight supported by the thigh he’d thrust between her legs, and the friction there was delicious. His hands were roaming over her petite curves hungrily, and his mouth—oh god, his mouth. He was ravaging her with his mouth, kissing her in a way that she had never before been kissed, even by Chat Noir. She buried her hands in his hair to hold him to her and rolled herself against him, gasping at the sensations pinging through her. She couldn’t get enough of it, of him, but oh god it was too much.

She tore her mouth away, panting for breath, and he kissed his way over her jaw and down her throat. He dragged his teeth over her hammering pulse, and she moaned, arching against him.

“God, I love it when you make those sounds,” he growled, and reclaimed her mouth for another searing kiss.

“A-Adrien, ah, god, I’m drowning.” She gasped against his mouth, and caught his lower lip gently between her teeth.

He bucked against her, hissing a breath in through his teeth. “Ah, fuck! Is this what drowning feels like, Princess?”

His mouth returned to her throat, and her eyes slid closed on another low moan. “I don’t know, Chat, but—”

He froze, and at first she thought she’d called him by the wrong name. Then, sudden clarity broke through the haze and she knew—it wasn’t the wrong name after all. She pushed him back to stare at him with wide eyes, and his expression confirmed her conclusion.

“Oh shit, you’re Chat Noir!”


	3. MariChat, Scar Tissue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

Chat Noir dragged his hands through his hair for the umpteenth time, and paced away from the petite girl in the lounger. “Mari, please, just let it go.”

“No.” Marinette crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest, and glared. “That’s abuse, Chat, and it’s not ok.”

“I’m not abused!” Chat Noir threw up his hands in exasperation. “He’s never once lifted a hand to me, or allowed anyone else to do so either.”

“Neglect is abuse.”

“I haven’t been neglected. I’ve never wanted for anything a day in my life.”

“Except time, love, and attention.” He flinched, and her expression softened. “You don’t have to hit someone to hurt them, and not all scar tissue exists in the open where anyone can see it.”

“Damnit, Mari,” he growled. “I regret ever saying anything to you about it.”

“Well the cat’s out of the bag now, you stubborn cat. Why won’t you talk to someone about this? Someone who could help you.”

He scoffed. “It doesn’t matter now, I’ll be 18 next week.”

Marinette cursed foully under her breath, and Chat’s brows rose in surprise. “You father is lucky that I don’t know who you are under that mask, Chaton.”

“Jesus, would you settle down already?”

“No, because fuck him,” she ranted. “No child should be treated like that, and especially not you. God, I thought Adrien’s home life was bad.”

“Shit.” He pinched the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb. One day revealing himself to her just got more complicated.


	4. Ladrien, Say My Name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

She was wrapped around his arm.  Again.  He bit back a sigh.   “You know I’d stay, Chloe, but I already have plans and you know how my father is—”

“Oh, your father adores me!  He won’t mind accommodating me.”  Chloe tightened her grip on his arm, and batted her lashes at him in a way that she probably thought was both coy and alluring. Adrien thought it just looked like she had something in her eye.  “From the hints he’s dropped, I think he’s probably already chosen a venue for our wedding!”

She tittered, and he choked on air. _Wedding?  Uh, no._ He fought to keep a grimace from his face, and tried to lean away from her without _looking like_ he was leaning away but she clung to him like a limpet.  A simpering, lemon-shelled limpet with too much makeup.

“Chloe, I’m flattered, but I really don’t think—”

“Oh, Adrikins.  You really are too much.  Of course we _belong_ together.”  She pressed herself closer to his body, trapping him against the front desk in her father’s hotel with her face turned up to his, clearly expecting a kiss.

“Er, Chloe isn’t this, uh—I mean, I don’t—”

“Am I interrupting?”

“No!”  Adrien turned his attention to the new comer with relief, and then surprise.

“Yes!  Can’t you see that I’m—” The hotel heiress turned to face the interloper as she spoke, and broke off with a gasp she saw who it was.  “L-ladybug?  What are you doing here?”

Ladybug looked between them, her expression inscrutable, and then turned to Adrien with a businesslike smile.  “I’ve been sent to escort you home, Adrien.  For your own safety.  Will you come with me please?”

Chloe narrowed her eyes dangerously.  “Surely my Adrikins is safe enough here.”

“I’m sorry, Chloe.  My instructions were clear.”

“I guess I’ll see you later then, Chloe.   _Ciao_.”  

Ladybug turned on her heel and led the way out of the hotel.  Adrien fell into step with her, smiling, until they got outside, out of earshot.   “So, my father sent you to find me, huh?”  He caught her arm and arched a brow at her, knowing perfectly well that she’d lied through her teeth.

“Uh, no.”  She had the grace to blush.  “You just looked really uncomfortable, and I wanted to…rescue you?”

“Yeah, Chloe can be a little—over bearing.”

“That’s one way to put it.”

He spluttered a laugh, and scratched the back of his head absently. “I, uh, guess I should get going. I actually do need to get home. Thanks for the rescue, m-Ladybug.”

He turned to go, but she caught his arm. “A-adrien, wait!  I uh, I could take you h-home, if you wanted me to.”

“I love that,” he murmured, a small smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

“Th-that I could take you home?”

Adrien realized that he’d said it out loud, and his cheeks flooded with heat.  He cleared his throat.  “Ah, n-no. I meant, I love it…when you say my name.”

“Oh,” she breathed, her eyes wide.  “W-well, Adrien, would you like a lift home?”

He stepped closer to her, his heart pounding.  “Sure.”

She unhooked the yoyo from her hip, and wrapped an arm around his waist as she began to swing it.  “Hold on to me, Adrien,” she murmured, and then they were airborne.


	5. LadyNoir, Get Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GUEST POST BY WARBOND  
> This one was written not by me, but by my husband! I gave him my prompt list, and told him to have fun with it. He chose the prompt and the ship, and he came up with this!! Can we show him some love puh-lease??

"They did what?" he asked, a glower descending over his features.  
  
"It's not that big a deal. Really." Ladybug self-consciously looked away from his face and grabbed her hanging left arm with her right hand.  
  
Chat's hands clenched into fists and he stalked towards the edge of the roof. "I guess it won't be a big deal if I just go and talk to them then, huh?" He stopped short when he found Ladybug standing in his way, her chin lifted defiantly and her hands planted on her hips, a far cry from the meek creature he had seen only a moment ago.  
  
"Chat," she said warningly. "No."  
  
"Relax, Bugaboo," he said disarmingly, a lopsided smile drawing her eyes to his mouth. "I'm not going to hurt them. I'm just going to talk to them. Sternly. With my fists." He moved to go around her, but stopped again at the hand pressed against his chest.  
  
"Let it go, Chat. I dealt with it. It's over."  
  
He brushed her hand away. "The hell it is." He took another step towards the edge and reached for his baton. "I--!"  
  
Chat's world tilted and he found himself face-down on the roof, his arm angled behind him awkwardly. He turned his head to the side to find Ladybug crouched next to him cradling his locked-out arm.  
  
"What...!?" He gently tested her grip by trying to bend his elbow, but she had him well and truly trapped.  
  
"I told you to let it go," Ladybug replied, her voice turning dark with warning.  
  
"So, what? You're going to hold me here until our power runs out and we have to transform back? Reveal our identities to each other?"  
  
Ladybug's eyes narrowed, considering. "If I have to," she said finally.  
  
Chat put his forehead against the warm roof and let out a sigh. "Okay, okay. You win. I won't go." He felt her grip relax marginally. It would have to do.  
  
Ladybug's tone softened. "Just--hey!" Her words cut off as Chat's muscles tensed and he spun underneath her, pulling her off balance and nearly throwing her over him. She gripped his wrist firmly and hooked a leg behind his knee as she tumbled. Her shoulder impacted the roof, eliciting a grunt through gritted teeth, but she shot out her hand and grabbed his arm before he could roll his way out from underneath her.  
  
He managed instead to pull her right on top of him.  
  
She hooked her foot around his other leg and sprawled on top of him, neutralizing his repeated efforts to throw her off balance and narrowly avoiding her trapping his free wrist. They were well matched. Each move from one produced a counter from the other. Soon they were both breathing hard with the effort.  
  
"Ladybug," he said, pausing his struggle momentarily and panting for breath, "Get off."  
  
She looked down at him and narrowed her eyes again. "No," she said with a smile. She was starting to have fun.  
  
Chat bucked his hips up and reached with his free hand to press against her chest, but suddenly became very aware of where that would place his hand. He readjusted his aim at the last second and reached instead for her shoulder, but his hesitation allowed her to twist her upper body away from his darting hand and she was finally able to grab his wrist.  
  
Ladybug immediately pressed her advantage and spread his arms out above his head, planting them solidly against the roof, putting them face to face and effectively immobilizing him.  
  
Chat once again bucked his hips against her, but he must have been getting tired. His effort was half hearted, and he groaned in frustration. Ladybug smiled triumphantly down at him. His pupils were dilated in the near darkness of the rooftop. His gaze flicked to her mouth and he licked his lips.  
  
The struggle for dominance faded from Ladybug's mind and awareness exploded into her. Their proximity. Their position. The fact that she was straddling his hips, pressing herself into him. She realized with a start that his last attempt to push her off of him wasn't half hearted because he was tired. It was a reflexive thrust. And that _wasn't_ the ridge of his belt digging into her.  
  
"M'lady, I..." he said in a breathy whisper. Their noses were nearly touching. Her heart pounding, she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips to his.


	6. Criminal, LadyNoir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Speaks** asked for LadyNoir/Criminal, and while I know that this is not at all what she was expecting—it’s what I came up with. I hope you guys enjoy it anyway.

Bridgette stumbled downstairs to the kitchen sleepily, rubbing her eyes and yawning.  She went to bed too late the night before, and it was far too early to be up now; even the sun was still waking up.  But for whatever reason, she woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep.  The answer here?  

Coffee.

She reached the bottom and absently flipped the light switch, only to freeze in shock at the large black cat crouched on the kitchen island, staring at her with wide green eyes.

“Wha—how did you get in here?”

Her voice must have startled it, because it jumped straight up into the air and then scuttled to the floor.  Its sudden movement certainly startled her; she jumped out of her skin with a shriek fit to wake the dead.  She pressed a hand to her thundering heart, telling herself to _calm down_.

“Here, kitty, kitty,” she called softly, walking further into the kitchen.

There was a noise at the top of the stairs, and she turned to see Felix shuffling down towards her.  “Bridgette?  I heard you yell, is everything ok?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  A cat got in here somehow, and it startled me.”

He blinked.  “A cat?”

“Yeah, a big black one.”

He gestured behind her.  “You mean that one?”

She turned and saw that the cat in question was peering at them from around the corner of the island.  She crouched very slowly, and held her hand out. “Here, kitty.  I’m not going to hurt you,” she said soothingly.  

It blinked its impossibly green eyes at her and tilted its head as if considering her words.  Then it took a few tentative steps forward and meowed.  

“Are you a talker, then?  You certainly are a pretty _chat noir_ , aren’t you?”  

“Don’t even think about it, Bri.”

“Oh, hush, Felix.  I’m just saying hello.  Why don’t you start the coffee?”

He grumbled under his breath, but moved around the other side of the kitchen to do as she asked.  “Well, I know how that mangy cat got in.  He ripped out the screen in the window over the sink.  He sighed theatrically.  “As if I didn’t have enough to do already.  Stupid cat.”

She smiled at his grumbling, and sat on the floor to wait for this _Chat Noir_ to come closer.  “So you broke in like a criminal, didn’t you?  I guess that makes you a cat burglar,” she crooned.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are, Bri.”

The both ignored Felix.

The cat stood and flicked his long tail, and sauntered a few steps closer to her.  He stopped just out of reach, and sat again.  “Meow,” he said, flicking his tail again.

“Come on, pretty.  Will you please let me pet you?”

“Mrow!”  He meandered a bit closer, and she held her hand out to him.  He considered her for another moment, then deigned to sniff her delicately.  

“Can I pet you?”  She moved her hand slowly, but he still shied away. She froze, allowing him time to sniff her again, and he rubbed his face along the edge of her hand.   Still moving slowly, she put her fingers to her ear and gave a light scratch.  To her surprise, he bumped her hand again, and began to purr.  “Oh, aren’t you a sweet heart?”  

She stroked her hand over his head and down his back, noting the absence of a collar.  “What are you doing here, without a collar?  You’re obviously someone’s pet.”

“Meoow.”  He bumped her hand again, then moved to the door and looked back at her expectantly.

“You want out?”  

“Mrow.”  He ran back to wind around her body, then padded back to the door and stretched up to paw at the handle.  “Mrow!”

“Ok, ok, I can take a hint.”  She followed him and opened the door, smiling when he darted out.  Strangely, though, he stopped only a few meters away, and looked back over his shoulder at her. “Go home, Chat Noir!”

“Mow.”  He came back and twined himself around her legs, making an unusual chirping sound.

“What?  I opened the door for you, you should go home.”

He moved a few meters away, and looked back at her again.  “Meow!”

“Felix, I think he wants me to follow him.”

“He’s a cat, Bri.  He’s just...being a cat.”

She slid her feet into the old shoes by the door, and pecked him on the cheek.  “Well, it can’t hurt to see, right?  It’s not so dark out anymore.  I’ll be right back.”

“If something happens to you, it’ll be your own fault!”  He called after her as the door closed.

“Ok, you’ve got me out here, now what?”

He darted away and she followed him, increasingly sure that that’s what he wanted.  He kept coming back again to rub at her ankles, as if making sure that she was staying with him.  “Where in the world are you taking me, cat?”

“Meow!”  He led her to another town house several buildings up the street, ran right up to the front door, and pawed at the door, crying.  

“I can’t go in there, cat, that’s not my house!”

“Mrooow!”

Bridgette approached the house, and noticed the stained glass ladybugs in the window just to the right of the front door. “Oh, I know who lives here.  It’s the older lady with the red and black Volkswagon.  The one with the pretty garden out back.”

“MROW!”  He circled her legs again and returned to the door, reaching up again to paw at the door knob.  This time, though, he leaned his weight against it and it pushed open, showing that it hadn’t been latched properly.  He darted through.

“Oh.  Well, that’s not good.”  Bridgette walked up to the door and knocked gently, but there was no answer.  “Hello?  Is everything ok, here?”

“Mow!”  The cat came back out, bumped his head into her shin, and then slipped back into the house.  

“Uh, this is going to sound weird, but I think your cat wants me to come inside.  Is that ok?”  Still no answer.  Hmm.  “O-ok, I’m going to come in now, uh, Mme…uh, Mme Agreste!

She pushed at the door, but there was something on the other side, preventing it from opening all the way.  Deep foreboding bloomed in her chest, and she pushed again, opening it just far enough for her to slip inside.  The old woman was collapsed on the other side of the door, the cat pacing anxiously around her.  Bridgette felt herself pale and knelt to check for a pulse with shaking fingers—and heaved a sigh of relief.  It was thready, but it was there.  

She put the call in to 112 and answered the dispatcher’s questions as well as she was able to, and agreed to wait there until help could arrive.  Then, sitting on the floor next to the woman, she called Felix to explain what had happened. The cat crawled into her lap almost immediately, and sat there purring as she stroked his head with one hand, and gently held the woman’s fingers with her other.


	7. Get Off, LadyNoir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because **Lunar_L** wanted "Fluffy humour with Ladynoir", **seasonofthegeek** wanted a non-scary akuma, and I wanted to write drunk Chat. Ta-da!

Ladybug leapt to the ground and looked around the quad in confusion.  An akuma had _definitely_ been reported at this end of the university, but this didn’t look like ground zero for an akuma attack; it looked like the late stages of a frat party.  Given that it was after midnight on the weekend, at a university, that didn’t seem too unusual.  She swung her yoyo lazily and wandered over to a small group of students, who were drunkenly discussing…anime?  

“Uh, excuse me,” she said, tapping the guy closest to her on the shoulder. “Is everything ok here?  Someone reported an akuma in this area.”

“What?”  He blinked owlishly at her, and then his face lit with recognition.  “OH!  Hey look guys, it’s Ladybug!!”

“Ladybug!  Hi!”

“Oh my god, you’re here!”

“It’s Ladybug!”

“Um, hello.”  She stepped back in surprise at the exuberant greeting, and waved awkwardly.  “You haven’t seen an akuma around here, have you?”

“I don’t know about any akumas, but this fat guy came around and hooked us all up with drinks!”  They all held up their identical drinks with big loopy grins. “Santé,” he called, and then they were all knocking glasses and drinking merrily.

She frowned at this.  A fat man going around giving out alcohol?  Could that be the akuma?  Or just a frat guy being a good host?  She eyed their violently purple cups.

Yeah, probably the akuma.

She turned and slipped away from the group, wondering where he could have gone. And where was Chat?  Normally, they’d have found one another by this point, though admittedly, this was not the usual run of akuma.  She brought up her yoyo to try to contact him, only to snap her head up when she heard her name—just in time to be knocked to the ground by a large, leather-clad body.

“Ohh, that didn’t feel good.”  They were sprawled out in the grass, with his body pinning hers to the ground.  “Chat, are you ok?”

He pushed himself up on his hands and looked down at her with a goofy smile.  “Ladybug, you’re here!  Now we can really get this party started.”

She narrowed her eyes.  “Chat?  Are you _drunk_?”

He tapped his chin thoughtfully.   Or at least, he tried to.  He missed his chin and poked himself in the cheek. “I’m not sure I would say drunk, necessarily.  But tipsy? Yeah.  I’m definitely tipsy.”

“Ugh, Chat, get off of me!”  She shoved at his shoulder and he rolled off of her to flop on his back in the grass. “You _are_ drunk!  Why would you drink something from an akuma??”

His mouth dropped open in outrage, and he sat up to glare at her indignantly.  “Give me a little credit here, LB.  I didn’t drink anything.  He has a wine cask strapped to his back, and it was tapped with a spray nozzle…thing. He sprayed me with it.”

“…Right.   So this akuma—”

“Bacchus.”

“Bacchus?”

“Yeah.  That’s his name.  Bacchus. You know, as in the ancient Roman god of wine and merry-making?”

She pinched the bridge of her nose with a sigh.  “Ok.  So _Bacchus_ is just going around getting people drunk? Why?”

“No idea, he just seems to want everyone to party, and have a good time. He didn’t even try to take my Miraculous.”

“He…didn’t?”

“Nope!  And I know Hawkmoth was trying to push him to it, but do you know what he said?  He told Hawkmoth to—and I quote—‘get lit and get laid’.  I mean, how great is that?”

Ladybug blinked, opened her mouth to speak, shut it, shook her head, and tried again.  “So, where is this Bacchus?  We need to—”

“Ladybug, have I ever told you how much I love you?”

She blinked at him.  “Chat—”

“No, really.  I mean, you’re the best!  I couldn’t ask for a better partner.   Not even Nino.  You’re waay prettier than Nino, and you’re wonderful and I—”

“Chat!  Now is not the time!”  She grabbed his hand and started towing him behind her.  “Let’s take care of this akuma, and then if you’re still trashed, we can have this conversation.  Now come on, before you start drunk dialing people…”

“Oh my lady, I loooove it when you get all _grabby_ and _sassy_.”


	8. Hawk Moth & Nooroo, Don't Speak

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This goes hand in hand with the last chapter! As requested by **AngryMuffin** , I've written that last akuma--from Hawkmoth's point of view! I really just couldn't resist. This one was even more fun to write than the last. :)
> 
> PS: "Santé" is the French equivalent of "cheers"...just in case it's not clear from the context. ;)

“Ah, Nooroo.  You have someone for me, then?”

“Yes, master.  But I must warn you: I do not believe that it will be an efficient use of power to take this one.”

“I will be the judge of that, thank you.  Nooroo, dark wings rise!”

“So be it…”

Hawkmoth raised his arms as the transformation took him, imbuing him with the power that he craved.   He curled his fingers into a tight fist, determined to make the most of this opportunity, no matter what the kwami said.  “Insolent bug,” he muttered.  “We shall see who is wrong, and who is victorious!” 

There was an echo of skepticism from his miraculous, and he gritted his teeth.  “So who is this likely candidate?  Ahh, yes.  The joy of success tempered by the bitter disappointment that no one is around to share it.  I see great potential here.  Fly away, my little akuma, and evilise him!”

Hawkmoth watched as the deep purple butterfly fluttered to the window and away, willing it to fly faster, to reach its target with greater haste.  He felt the urge to pace, but tamped it down, forcing himself to remain still, with his hands resting calmly on the head of his cane. 

His akuma would take his newest champion, and it would be the beginning of the end for Ladybug and Chat Noir.  He allowed his lips to curl into a smile.

 

* * *

 

“Bacchus, I am Hawkmoth.   I understand that congratulations are in order.  I will give you the power of that ancient god, to draw all of Paris into celebration with you as you so richly deserve, but you must agree to help me in return.”

“Santé, Hawkmoth.  Let’s do it!”

The villain felt his power take the young man, transforming him from a plump, dejected mortal into the god of the vine, and watched through his eyes as he made his way through the university, reducing the student body to a drunken party—whether they wished to participate or not. 

As always, he watched anxiously, waiting for the other Miraculous wielders to make their appearance, to provide him with the opportunity to seize what he so desperately desired.  He was rewarded, soon enough, with the appearance of Chat Noir, and he felt his heart rate increase.

“You’re having a party, and didn’t invite me?”  The cheeky cat asked, spinning his staff with an unnecessary flourish.

“Naw, man, you’re invited!  Everyone is invited.”  He pulled a purple cup from the bottomless sleeve mounted on the cask at his back, and dispensed some of the deep red wine from the nozzle.  He held it out to Chat Noir invitingly.  “Care for a drink?”

“I’ll have to pass this time, uh—”

“Bacchus,” he supplied jovially.

“Bacchus, nice!  From the Roman pantheon, right?  I always liked him.” 

“Right?  Nothing like a bit of drunken debauchery when you want to kick back and celebrate something.”  He held the cup out again, wiggling it a bit.  “You sure you don’t want to partake?”

“Sorry, no drinking when I’m on the clock.”

 “Well, that’s too bad then.”  He tipped the cup back and drained it himself, then pulled the nozzle from its holster and pointed it at the black-clad hero.  “I’m afraid I just can’t take no for an answer.”

“Oh shi—”  Chat dove, but it was too late.  He was caught in the spray and rendered instantly intoxicated.  His roll ended in an inelegant sprawl, and he clutched his head in confusion.

“Welcome to the party, Chat Noir!  Let me know when your girl gets here, won’t you?”  He poured himself another drink, and raised it to the confused cat.  “Santé!”

Bacchus turned from Chat Noir, and Hawkmoth shrieked in fury.  “No!  His Miraculous!  Take his ring you idiot!  He’s disarmed, this is the perfect opportunity to take his ring!”

“Nah, he’s just here for the party.  A good host would never take advantage of a drunk guest.”

Hawkmoth’s hands shook with his fury.  This was a golden opportunity, and his champion was _wasting_ it!  “You _will_ go back and take his Miraculous!  _Now_!”  He used their empathic connection to trigger pain, thinking to coerce obedience, but to his surprise the man just laughed.

“I just completed my post-grad degree while dealing with chronic migraines.  Compared to what I’ve been living with for years, that just tickles, man.”  He tipped his cup back again, draining it.  “Take a bit of advice, man.  You need to lay off this Hawkmoth thing, get lit, and get _laid_.  It’ll do you a world of good.”

Hawkmoth felt his jaw drop, utterly bemused by this turn of events.  He watched helplessly as his champion meandered through the university, turning it into one, big, useless party.  He considered simply recalling his akuma, but he refused to give Nooroo the satisfaction of giving up.  He was aware of the faint echo of amusement from his Miraculous, but he would not acknowledge it. 

It was actually a relief when Ladybug appeared out of no-where to snatch the cup away and crush it beneath her foot.  When it was over, he dismissed Nooroo from the brooch, not bothering to catch the spent kwami.   He tumbled to the floor to land amid the harmless white butterflies, and eyed his master knowingly, in spite of his exhaustion.

“Don’t speak,” the man said, refusing even to look at the kwami.  “Not a word, Nooroo.  Not.  A.  Word.”


	9. Gabriel & Nathalie, Almost Lost You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in response to this ask from **lalunaunita** on Tumblr:  
>  "Hi! Can I ask for #7, platonic/friendship, with Nathalie and Gabriel? Hope so, have a great day."

“Foolish woman, you’re supposed to run _away_ from rampaging akumas!”

Nathalie arched an immaculate brow at her employer, and tugged her torn, soot-stained blazer into place.  “Sir, you’re the one who told me never to let any harm come to your master sketch book, under any circumstances.”  

“My sketch b—”

She held it up calmly, and he realized that what he’d taken for her tablet was actually his scketch book.    “I believe it may have been slightly damaged, but it’s in excellent condition, considering.”

The usually unflappable Gabriel Agreste stared, dumbfounded, at his assistant. 

She lowered the book with a frown.  “Sir?  Are you alright?  Were you injur—”

“Damnit, Nathalie, I don’t care about the book.”  He knocked it carelessly from her hands and pulled her into a hug.  “I almost lost _you_.”

The equally unflappable Nathalie froze, every bit as stunned as her employer had just been.  In all her years of working for him, the man had never done more than to shake her hand on the day she’d been hired.  And now he was hugging her?  

What was the protocol here?  Hug him back? Wait for him to recall himself, and pretend it hadn’t happened?

“S-sir?”  Her voice came out in a squeak, and she winced.  

He stiffened and released her as if he’d been burned, his eyes wide and an uncharacteristic blush staining his cheeks.  He cleared his throat, and arranged his face into its normal, neutral expression.  “In the future, please refrain from endangering yourself, regardless of the reason.  I would hate to have to train a new assistant, Nathalie.  It would be terribly inconvenient.”

She blinked.  “Yes, I suppose it would be.”

“Indeed.”  He inclined his head, and turned on his heel to stride to the waiting car.

She stared after him for a moment, utterly bemused by the events of the last five minutes.

“Will you be joining us, Mlle Sancouer?”

She jolted, straightening her ruined blazer once more.  “Of course, sir.”  She bent to pick up the sketch book and slid into the car opposite her employer, turning her face to the window to hide her smile.


	10. MariChat, Don't Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in response to this ask from **Maerynn** on Tumblr:  
>  "Marichat or Adrienette 40- don’t lie???"

“Don’t lie, Princess. You know you want it.”

“Absolutely not.” Marinette crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest, and stuck her pert nose into the air. 

“What’s the matter?” Chat Noir moved around the lounger to sit next to her, and playfully booped her haughty nose. “Are you afraid you might like it?”

Her eyes snapped open on an indignant huff. “Of course not! Unlike you, I actually have _standards_.”

“Mm-hmm. And your personal bias in favor of your parents’ bakery has nothing to do with it, right?”

She sniffed. “It’s not my fault that our baked goods are superior.”

He snickered. “Come on Princess. Just one little taste, and then if you’re right, you can go back to talking smack about my new pastry chef.”

“Fine. One little taste, and then you have to promise to shut up about this new chef.”

Chat whooped delightedly, and dipped his spoon into the Sachertorte, scooping up a generous bite of the dense Viennese delicacy. “Open wide, Princess,” he taunted, and laughed when she obeyed with a glare. He pulled the spoon from her mouth, watching her response closely.

She continued to glare only until the rich flavor of the admittedly delicious dessert fully registered on her tongue. Then her expression melted into one of bliss, and she moaned in appreciation.

“HA! I knew it! It’s amazing, right?”

Marinette’s eyes flew open in dismay. “Damnit,” she sighed, twisting her lips to the side in an expression of resignation as she eyed the torte. “Can I have another bite?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you'd like to know exactly what a _Sachertorte_ is: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sachertorte


	11. Adrienette, Say My Name, Angst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in response to this ask on Tumblr:  
> "Oh!!! 19 Adrienette with a n g s t"

“Adrien?” Marinette took in his blown-out pupils, parted lips and quickened breath and wondered if he could possibly have meant anything other than what she thought he’d meant. He took another step towards her, sliding his hand along her jaw, and her pulse thundered in her ears.

“I’d like to kiss you, Marinette.”

Yeah. He definitely meant what she thought he meant. “God yes,” she breathed, and then his mouth was on hers. 

His lips were soft and warm, and they played over hers in a way that sent tremors up her spine. She stepped into him, closing the remaining distance, and brought her hands to his waist. He made a sound low in his throat and nipped at her lower lip, taking advantage of her soft gasp to deepen the kiss.

Marinette was reeling. Where had this come from? Was she dreaming? He tasted ever so slightly of the wine they’d shared at Nino’s; was it possible to taste things in dreams?

The hand at her jaw slipped back into her hair, tipping her head back a bit more and allowing him even greater access to her mouth. The other curled into her hip and pulled her tighter against him; she could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing into her belly. 

She was inundated with sensation, overwhelmed with it. She pulled her mouth from his, drawing in a gasping breath, and he pressed his lips to the corner of her mouth, to her jaw, to the sensitive skin just below her ear.

“Ladybug,” he breathed, and touched his tongue to that same spot below her ear.

Marinette went rigid in his arms, feeling suddenly as if ice water coursed through her veins. She shoved him away, hoping that maybe she’d misheard and knowing that she hadn’t. “Why would you call me that?”

His momentary confusion cleared and he paled, finally realizing what he’d said. “Fuck. Please, I didn’t mean—”

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say my name like that for years,” she whispered.

Though it hadn’t seemed possible, he paled further. “Marinette—”

“And you said the wrong name.” Blinking back tears, she opened the door and stood to the side, her expression shuttered. “I won’t be your second choice.”

His eyes widened, and his whole body wilted. “You don’t understand, Mari—”

Her eyes dropped to the floor. “Please, just go.” His feet moved quietly through her field of vision, and then he was gone. Marinette closed her apartment door behind him with a click that sounded impossibly loud in the silence. Her hand fell from the knob and she collapsed against it, her body shuddering with the force of her sudden sobs.

It hadn’t been a dream.

Dreams never hurt this much.


	12. Fluffy Adrienette, Linger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in response to this ask on Tumblr:  
> "Hello friend, if you're still taking writing prompts would you mind doing #31- linger with older Adrien and Mari for romance/fluff. Thank you!"

“Have I ever told you how much I like it when you wear your hair like this?”  Adrien leaned over the back of her chair, fiddling with the short ribbons holding her hair back. 

“No.” 

“You used to wear it like this all the time.” 

Marinette set down her pencil and looked pointedly at Adrien.  “Have I ever told you how difficult it is to get my homework done, with you in my dorm room?”

He smiled sheepishly, and sat on her bed.  “You might have mentioned it.”

“Is everything ok?”  She closed her notebook and turned to face him fully.  “You usually only come here when something is bothering you.”

“That’s not true!” 

She said nothing, but arched her brow skeptically. 

“Ok, maybe it’s a little true.” He hesitated, rubbing his neck uncomfortably.  “Actually, I just, missed you.”

Her lips parted in surprise.  “Missed me?”

 “Yeah. Is—is that ok?”

“Of course.”  She tilted her head to the side, and began re-tying her ribbons, which he’d loosened.  “We’re friends, right?”

“Yeah.  Friends.”  His eyes dropped, and he rubbed his hands over his thighs absently.

He sounded almost…disappointed?  She licked her lips, drawing the bottom one between her teeth to nibble at it thoughtfully.  “I, um, really need to finish this assignment, but if you’d like to linger for a bit, maybe we could go grab something to eat after?”

His eyes returned to her face, something like hope shining in the green.  “I’d like that.  A lot.”


	13. ChloNath, Sometimes.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written in response to this ask on Tumblr:  
> "How about a chlonath response to other weddings (ie djwifi, Adrienette, even Maylene and Ivan)? I could see her getting very worked up about others getting married when she isn't. I also see him being very amused by that."  
> AND this suggestion from **maerynn** :  
> “clonath preparing their wedding???“  
> BOTH of which were responses to my "Quick, someone ask me to write a ChloNath drabble, so I have an excuse to write one!!" on Tumblr this morning. I have no self control, apparently. Oh, and I chose to incorporate the "sometimes" prompt, because why not?

“This is gross.”  Chloe set down her empty champagne glass, scowling.

“Not everyone can afford _Dom Perignon_ , Chlo.”

“Stupid tomato.”  She rolled her eyes.  “I wasn’t talking about the champagne, though now that you mention it, it is subpar.”

Nathanaël’s lips twitched in amusement.  “This is not gross, this is sweet.”

“They’re being nauseating again.”

“They’re newlyweds.  This is their wedding reception.  They’re supposed to be nauseating.”

“Why am I here?”

“Because you’re not actually the raging bitch you want everyone to think you are.”

“You’re such a pain sometimes.”  She picked up her champagne glass and scowled into it.  “Why is this still empty?  If I have to watch Ivan and Mylene hang all over one another, I’m not going to do it sober.”

Nathanaël plucked the glass from her hand and stood, snickering.  “Heaven forbid.”

Her eyes narrowed.  “Watch it, Kurtzberg.”

* * *

 

“Chloe, why aren’t you dressed?”

“I’m not going.”  She walked away from the door without bothering to invite him in.

He came in anyway, closing the door behind him.  “Of course you are.  You’ve already done your hair and makeup.  There’s no way you’d let that go to waste.”

“I’ll go somewhere else.”  She put a perfectly manicured hand to her flawless coiffure with a sniff.  “This effort would be wasted on them, anyway.”

“Too bad, Chlo.”  He tugged her up from her couch, grinning.  “Come on, get dressed.  It’s time to go mingle with the commoners.”  He put a hand to the small of her back and gently pushed her towards her room.  She went, grudgingly.

“Ugh, gross.  Why do you keep dragging me to these things, Kurtzberg?”

“Because I love to torture you.”  He leaned an arm on the door frame, and smiled down into her beautiful, scowling face.  “And because I know you secretly want to go.”

She slammed the door on him, and he jerked back with a laugh.  

Chloe emerged a few minutes later in a lemon yellow cocktail dress, tucking her cell phone into a small white clutch and grumbling about interfering tomatoes, and Nathanaël allowed his gaze to rake over her appreciatively.

“You look lovely, Chloe.”

“I always look lovely, Kurtzberg ,” she shot back, but a blush darkened her cheekbones and she couldn’t look him in the eye.  She huffed.  “You do know that Alya and Nino are going to be even more gross than Ivan and Mylene were, don’t you?”

He grinned at her, amused and not at all fooled by her bluster.  “I have a whole bottle of champagne in the car, just for you.  It’s yours, if you can make it through the ceremony.”

“Of course I can make it through the ceremony,” she scoffed, snatching her wrap from the back of a chair.  “And the reception, too.  Keep your champagne, Kurtzberg.”

He hid a grin behind his hand, and followed her out the door.

* * *

“It’s not enough for him to make me be here.  Oh no, he had to make me a part of the damn thing!”  Chloe peeked out of the small room to the side of the vestibule, and glared at the people filling the church.  “He hates me, doesn’t he?”

Nathanaël’s lips curled into a smile. “No, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t hate you.”

“Then why would he _do_ this to me?”  She threw herself into his arms on a wail.  “Adrien knows I hate these things.  I can’t just duck out when I’m a member of the bridal party.”

He shook with suppressed laughter.  “I am too, don’t forget.  And we’ll be seated together at the reception.”

“It’s the only reason I agreed to this nonsense, really.”

“Mm-hmm.”  He tipped her chin up and kissed her languidly.  “The fact that he’s your oldest friend had nothing to do with it.”

She scowled, both because he was right, and because he’d stopped kissing her to speak.  “Shut up and kiss me, Kurtzberg.”

He grinned against her mouth, and kissed her again, more briefly.  “So is this why you dragged me in here?”  He nipped at her lip, then soothed it with another kiss.  “We can’t get carried away.  It’s going to start soon, and I’d hate to muss your hair.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”  She pulled away and returned to the door, frowning she when saw that the bridal party was gathering in the vestibule.  “Shit. I think we need to get out there. This isn’t going to be as long as the last one was, right?”

“No idea,” he said cheerfully.  “Come on, let’s go get in line.”

“You’re lucky I love you.  You and Adrien, both.”

He grinned at her back, thinking much the same thing. 

* * *

“Hey, Chlo?”  

She glanced up at him as they meandered along the Seine, and wondered at the strange quality of his voice.  She raised her brows expectantly.

“Will you let me drag you to another wedding?”

She groaned.  “Another one? Who the hell is getting married this time, Alix and Kim? I thought they eloped!”

He stopped walking and caught at her hand, turning her to face him.  “I was hoping it would be ours.”  She gaped at him as he dropped to one knee, there in the middle of the sidewalk, and produced a small polished wood box from his pocket.  He opened it to reveal a beautiful, yet understated ring in a bed of black velvet.  A flawless yellow cushion-cut diamond sat perched in the center of a white gold ring, flanked by two, smaller, equally flawless trapezoid white diamonds.  It wasn’t large or flashy, but it was from _him_ and it was _perfect_.  

“This isn’t the ring you deserve, but it’s yours—along with my heart.  I love you, Chloe.  Will you marry me?”

She looked from the ring to his anxious face, and put a hand to his cheek.  “Oh, you stupid tomato.  Of course I will marry you.”

“Oh, thank god!”  He surged to his feet and captured her mouth in a hungry kiss, almost forgetting the box he still held in his shaking hand.  

She pushed him back, and held her left hand out to him, wiggling her fingers excitedly.  “Aren’t you forgetting something, Kurtzberg?  I want my ring!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I now have a ChloNath collection! If you want to read them all at once and in order, go here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11888667/chapters/26851539


	14. ChloNath, Bickering/Flirting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathanael offers to help Chloe during a trip to the Louvre, and Chloe has no idea what to think about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m a little late to the party, but I made it! I combined the Day 1 prompt with this one from the fluffy prompt list: “Are you tired? Here, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”
> 
> Also: I now have a ChloNath collection! If you want to read them all at once and in order, go here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11888667/chapters/26851539

As they made their way through the Louvre, Nathanaël noticed as Chloe lagged farther and farther behind their group, her face pinched in a way that was less ‘foul temper’ and more ‘this hurts’. Even Sabrina had given up on staying back with her, though, which suggested that perhaps there was some foul temper there, too. He sighed, knowing he was probably wasting his time, but he stopped to wait for her to catch up.

“What do you want, Kurtzberg?” She demanded when she saw what he was doing.

He ignored her question, and cocked his head curiously. “Are you tired?”

“No, of course not,” Chloe snapped petulantly, glaring at him. “My feet hurt.” 

He looked pointedly at her feet, which were encased in lemon-yellow patent leather peep-toe pumps with ludicrously high heels, and raised a brow.

“What? They’re gorgeous.”

“Oh, well then. Come here, I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”

She looked at him with doubt and hope warring on her lovely face. “Really?”

“No,” he scoffed. “You should have known better than to wear four inch heels to a museum, Chloe.”

“Ugh! As if I would let you touch me, anyway.” She stuck her nose in the air and attempted to flounce off, but the effect was ruined when she whimpered.

Nathanaël rolled his eyes. “Chloe, wait.” He lightly caught her wrist and she froze, her spine stiff. “Come sit at this bench, and I will see if there’s a first aid station somewhere. You probably have blisters or something.”

She huffed. “Fine. But be quick about it.”

He rolled his eyes again, and mentally berated himself for even trying. He spoke briefly to their art history professor, and discovered that not only was there a first aid station, but that it was nearby.

He followed the directions and found the small office easily. Inside, there was a kindly middle-aged man behind the desk who smiled knowingly when he heard Nathanaël’s request, but handed over a stack of Band-Aids without comment. He thanked the man, and took his bounty back to Chloe.

To his surprise, he found her sitting on the bench with her shoes off, her heels perched on the edge of the bench, and her forehead resting on her raised knees. She had nasty-looking blisters on the foot closest to him, so it was a good bet that she had a matching set on the other foot. It was strange; she looked vulnerable in a way that he’d never seen before, and it made him glad that he’d braved her sharp tongue to help her. She must have heard him approaching, though, because her head snapped up and her feet dropped to the ground.

“Finally!” She huffed, flushing not with anger, but embarrassment. The anger was just a cover for her embarrassment at having been caught in a position of weakness. 

He blinked at the sudden insight, and wondered if there were more such insights to uncover. His mouth curled into a smile, and she huffed again. He held the Band-Aids out to her, and she snatched them from his hand. His smile didn’t waver. “Do you want me to wait with you?”

“Of course not, I—” She cut herself off, blinking as she looked around and realized that the rest of their group had moved on to another section of the museum. “Perhaps you should wait here. Sabrina is gone, and I will need someone to dispose of the trash when I’m done.”

Nathanaël’s eyebrows climbed almost to his hairline. “Oh, can I, please?” He scoffed, shaking his head. “You’re welcome for getting the Band-Aids that you so clearly needed, and you’re welcome for staying to keep you company until we can catch up with the group.”

She stared at him in confusion. “Who the hell are you, and what have you done with Nathanaël Kurtzberg?”

His laughter rang through the gallery, followed by another indignant huff.


	15. Don’t Speak, Marichat/Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt:  
> For the writing prompt list. 12 dont speak for Marichat please. I love your writing so much and if you decide to take this in a sin direction i would have absolutely no complaints.

“Don’t speak.   Please, just…c-can I kiss you again?”

Adrien nodded mutely, completely stunned by this turn of events but willing to see where it would lead.

Marinette held his eyes for another moment as her fingertips crept up from his lips to the edge of his mask.  He could feel them there, her touch light but trembling.  Then her eyes dropped back to his lips and her hands slipped around his neck to pull him down.

This kiss was as unhurried as her last had been rushed.  She met his lips hesitantly, and he got the distinct impression that she really didn’t know what she was doing.  Or, for that matter, why she was doing it. 

Adrien, for his part, wasn’t sure what he was doing either, but she didn’t seem to mind.  He was certainly enjoying himself.  As her lips continued to move gently over his, her fingers tangling in the hair at his nape, he brought one hand to her hip.  She didn’t object, so he brought the other hand up as well, and slowly tugged her closer.  She parted her lips on a sigh, her breath warm on his skin, and he deepened the kiss.  It was a timid gesture, just the flick of his tongue over the waterline of her upper lip, but it was enough.  She gasped at the sensation and her hands tightened at his neck as she drew his lip between hers and sucked at it fleetingly. 

His response was startling in its intensity, the sensation pinging from his mouth and spreading lower.  He slid his arms around her on a growl and he swept his tongue into her mouth, angling his head instinctively to delve deeper.  She whimpered, pushing up on her toes and locking her arms around his neck. 

They were flush together now, their mouths working in awkward concert as they each learned the steps to this new dance.  Their teeth clacked together a time or two, their noses bumped, but he was   too lost in the moment to notice or care.  He _knew_ that she could feel his arousal against her belly, but he didn’t care about that either.  He could feel her slight movements as she pressed against him and the tantalizingly subtle friction was driving him insane.

Finally, _finally_ she slowed and pulled her mouth from his, loosening her grip on his neck and sliding back to the floor as she panted.  His arms loosened as well, and he drank in her kiss-swollen lips and flushed cheeks and unfocused eyes.  _He_ had done that to her, he _loved_ that he’d done that to her.  He licked his lips, still tasting her there, and he loved that, too.

“What was that for?”  He whispered, his breathing still ragged.

Her eyes met his, briefly, and skittered away.  “I-I think I love you,” she breathed, sounding dazed. 

“Oh.”  He blinked, feeling a bit as if he’d been sucker-punched.  “Is that –is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know,” she replied with simple honesty.  “I feel…confused, I think.”

He thought guiltily of his partner, and chuckled ruefully.  “That makes two of us.”

“So,” she began, staring at the floor.  “What now?”


	16. ChloNath, Honey/Tomato

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ChloNath Day 2! Nathanael sees Chloe sitting alone at a cafe, and decides to go say hi.  
> This follows chronologically from the scene at the Louvre: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11065350/chapters/24971355
> 
> Also, I now have a ChloNath collection! If you want to read them all at once and in order, go here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11888667/chapters/26851539

Nathanaël glanced up from his textbook when the bell above the door jingled, just as he had every other time the door had opened.  This café was usually a good place to study, but today it was busier than normal _and_ he’d had the misfortune of sitting right by the door.  He sighed, flipping his book closed in defeat. 

Oh well, at least he could still people-watch as he enjoyed his coffee.

He sat back in his seat and let his eyes roam over the crowded café, absently noting interesting details and mentally planning how he might sketch them.  It was an old habit, and one that he still enjoyed.  His eyes paused, though, when they landed on a familiar head of honey-gold hair, and his lips curled into a smile. 

She was sitting alone on the other side of the café, at a booth next to the window.  An open book sat on the table in front of her, but she ignored it in favor of staring out the window at the cloudy sky beyond.   She looked…lonely.   He considered her for a moment more, then gathered his things into his bag and moved across the restaurant to slide into the seat across from her.

She looked at him in surprise, and then her eyes narrowed.  “I don’t recall inviting you to join me.”

His brows rose as he took a slow sip from his coffee.  “Hello to you too, Chloe.”

“What do you want, tomato-head?”

“The café is busy,” he shrugged, indicating the rest of the shop with his mug.  “This seat was free and I thought I’d free up another table for someone else.”

“How lovely,” she drawled, with a patently false smile on her face.  Then the smile fell, and she made a shooing motion with her hands.  “Now leave, I’m trying to study and the god-awful shade of your hair is distracting me.”

He just settled more comfortably into his seat and continued to sip at his coffee, regarding her steadily. 

She frowned, though there was more confusion in the expression than anything else.  “Didn’t you hear me?  Go away.”  This time, she made a show of leaning forward to stare at her book, ignoring him pointedly.

He smiled behind his coffee mug and shifted his gaze to the window, watching the people moving quickly outside. 

She made it only a few minutes before she snapped her book closed and scowled at him.  “What is with you, recently?  Why aren’t you scurrying away like you used to?”

He met her sharp blue gaze and tilted his head thoughtfully.  “Your barbs stopped bothering me a long time ago, Chloe.  Until recently, you inspired nothing so much as apathy in me.”  He took another drink of his coffee while she spluttered indignantly.  “But then I saw something I’d never noticed before, and realized that there’s actually a _woman_ beneath that prickly exterior.  I find myself wanting to know her better, even if it means getting through the prickles to do so.”

She gaped at him, clearly blind-sided by his confession and rendered utterly speechless for perhaps the first time since they’d met. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted,” she said finally.

He set his mug down with another shrug.  “Take it however you want.  But you should know that if you truly want me to leave you alone, I will.”

Her lips pursed, and she sniffed haughtily.  “Good.  I want you to leave.”

Nathanaël felt a flash of disappointment at her response, but he wasn’t surprised.  It _was_ Chloe, after all.  Perhaps he’d expected too much.  He drained his mug and stood, grabbing his bag as he did so.  “See you later, Chloe.”

He glanced back at her as he left, catching her in an unguarded moment.  Her face looked both surprised and sad, but it was gone as soon as she realized she’d been caught and the haughty mask slipped back into place. 

The damage was done, though.  He’d seen.  His lips tilted up in another small smile, and he wondered if perhaps she would surprise him after all.


	17. "I want to go on a date!"  LadyNoir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from **seasonofthegeek** :  
> "I'll be your forever friend for some Ladynoir action for the prompt: “I want to go on a date! I demand it!” <3"

“I mean, it’s ridiculous, right?”  Ladybug stalked across the roof in frustration, gesturing wildly with her hands as she spoke.  “Is it really so unreasonable to want to go on a date?  I am eighteen fucking years old, and I’ve never been on a single date.”  

Chat Noir smirked at her in amusement from his perch on the ledge of the next building.  “Never?  Not even one?”

She slowed her steps and glanced at him with a blush that showed even beyond her mask.  “Well, sort of, but only if you count the time that—”  She cut herself off abruptly, and her eyes widened in dismay.

His head tilted curiously.  “Yeah?  ‘The time that’, what?”

“Uh, n-nothing,” she replied, waving her hands dismissively.  “It was just a fake date, it wasn’t important.”

He shrugged, smirking again.  “If you say so.”

“Well, I do say so.”  She finished pacing to the opposite side of the roof, and swung around to stalk back towards him.  “And if anything, it makes this even more ridiculous, that the closest I’ve ever gotten to going out with someone was a pretend date!”

“You do see the irony here, don’t you, Bug?” He asked, his voice tinged with faint amusement.

“What irony?  There’s no irony.  I want to go on a date!  In fact, I demand it!”

“No irony, huh?”  The amusement was gone now, and he voice had turned strangely neutral.

She stopped in front of him, confused.  “What irony, Chat, what are you talking about?”

“I’ve been asking you out for years, Ladybug.” He smirked again, but this time it carried a bitter edge.  “You shut me down every time, so many times that I lost count, and yet you see nothing ironic in the fact that you’ve been standing here, ranting to _me_ , about how you’ve never been on a date?”

Her eyes were wide behind her mask, and her skin had paled to stand in stark contrast to it.  “You mean, you were _serious_?”  She whispered incredulously.

“W- _what_?” He hopped down from the ledge to stand in front of her.  “What in the world made you think I wasn’t?”

“You—You’re always so over-the-top and dramatic, Chat, I thought you were just flirting!  How was I to know you were being sincere?!”

He took a few steps away from her, rubbing the back of his neck in frustration.  “Well, at least I know you weren’t being cruel.”

“Cruel!  Chat, no, I’m sorry, I—”  She bit her lip uncertainly and  followed him to put a tentative hand on his arm.  “Did you really want to go out with me?”

He turned back to face her, his expression inscrutable.  “Yeah, I did.”

She gulped.  “D-do you still?”

“I don’t want a pity date, Ladybug.”

“Neither do I,” she rejoined tartly, and then her expression softened again.  “But I never thought…”  She trailed off, studying his face.  “Now that I am thinking about it, though, I’d like to find out.  Can I take you on a date, Chat Noir?”

“No,” he said simply.  Her expression fell, and he tilted her face back up to his with a clawed finger beneath her chin.  “But I’d like to take you out, if you’ll let me.  I did ask first, if you recall.”

“You ass,” she giggled.  “Yes, I’ll let you.  But then it’s my turn.”


	18. ChloNath, Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ChloNath Week Day 3: Art  
> Chloe goes looking looking for Nathanael in the bowels of the art building on campus.  
> This follows chronologically from the Day 2 café scene: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11065350/chapters/24989136
> 
> Also, I now have a ChloNath collection! If you want to read them all at once and in order, go here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11888667/chapters/26851539

Nathanaël stepped back to view his project from a distance, then began to pace around it with a critical eye, looking for flaws. Sculpture was _not_ his favorite medium, but his professor wanted a sculpture and so a sculpture she would have.

At least he’d had a great deal of control over his execution of the project. Some professors were far too narrow in the scope of their assignments; this one was kind enough (or wise enough) to leave the bulk of the decisions to her students.  Her only requirement had been that it must contain movement, and even then, she had refused to clarify that statement at all.  Some of his classmates had freaked out at the lack of structure, but Nathanaël was in heaven.

He’d chosen to create an optical illusion—it was entirely stationary, but gave the _appearance_ of movement if the viewer moved.  It had been a bitch to design, and an even bigger bitch to actually make, but the result was well worth the effort.  He circled it again once more, and nodded to himself in satisfaction.  It was done. _Finally._

He wheeled it into his assigned storage closet and locked up, grabbed his keys and jacket from the worktable without breaking his stride, and hit the lights.  As he walked up the hall, he pulled his phone out to shoot a text to the guys. He sent it off with a smile, already looking forward to kicking back with a few drinks, and looked up just in time to meet a familiar pair of blue eyes.  He blinked.  He’d seen her in passing several times over the last few weeks, but they hadn’t spoken since that day in the café .  

“Chloe?  What are you doing here?”  Her eyes widened in…was that panic?  He frowned, wondering what she could possibly be doing in the art building at this hour.  Their art history class had ended hours ago, and wasn’t scheduled to meet again for two more days.  “Is everything ok?”

“Everything is _fine_ , tomato-head,” she snapped, her eyes narrowed in disdain.  “I was just…walking through.”

“Through to where?”  He glanced behind him to the blank wall at the end of the hall and looked back at her with raised brows.  “I think there’s an emergency exit back there somewhere, but there’s nothing behind this building.”

“Ugh, fine.  I was looking for you.”  She blushed, and suddenly seemed to find something fascinating in her manicure.

“Looking…for me?”  He blinked again, and felt his smile working its way back to his face.  “What, did you need something for class?”

“N— _yes_!”  Her manicure now forgotten, she put her hand to her cocked hip and tipped her chin up in challenge.  “Do you have the notes from today’s lecture?  I, er, spilled tomato juice on mine.”

Nathanaël choked on his laugh, and attempted to cover it with a cough.  Her eyes narrowed but she let it go, and he figured that he would, too. “Ah.  Well then.  I just finished a project, and was about to go and grab something to eat.  Would you want to come with me?  We could talk over the lecture, and then if you still needed them, we could grab my notes from the dorm.”

Her eyes lit as he spoke, and he found himself distracted.  Who knew that her eyes could be so damned lovely, when they sparked with interest rather than malice?

“Project?  Like, an art project?”

“Uh, yeah.”  He cleared his throat and subtly shook himself.  “My sculpture.  Did you, uh, want to see it?”

“Can I?”

“Sure.  It’s just in here.”  He turned and led the way back into the room he’d just left, and flipped the lights back on. “I don’t usually like sculpture, but I’m actually pretty pleased with this one.”

She was surprisingly quiet as she followed him.  More surprising was that she waited patiently while he unlocked the door and pulled his creation out on its wheeled base.  He stepped to the side so that she could look at it, and allowed himself to watch her face in turn.  

“What the hell is it?”  She frowned, looking confused and a little disappointed at first.   Then she stepped closer saw what they were, and her expression cleared.  “Bees?”

“Bees,” he confirmed, leaning his hips against his work table and resting the heels of his hands on the edge.

She nodded and shifted to the side, then gasped when she realized its secret.  “It moves!”

“No.”  He smiled, enjoying her reaction. “It doesn’t move, but it gives that illusion if you do.”

She began to walk around it in much the same way he had done earlier, her eyes wide and her mouth split in a genuine smile.  “This is incredible.”  Then it hit her that she’d offered a compliment, and scrambled to back-track.  “I mean, if you’re into bugs.  Why bees, anyway?”

“Because until recently, they defied explanation.”  He gestured to the wing.  “For a long time, scientists couldn’t figure out how a bee’s small, flimsy wings could support its comparatively large body in flight.  They did finally figure it out, but I thought it was fascinating that something as simple as the flight of a bee could turn out to be so complex.”

“You really are a giant dork, aren’t you?”  A bit of her usual attitude had crept back into her tone, but it had none of the bite that it usually did.  She returned her eyes to the carefully sculptured swarm, and continued to move around it, now studiously avoiding him.  

He grinned, recognizing it for the victory it was.  “So, did you want to go grab something to eat?”  

“Yeah, I guess we could do that.”  She straightened, and stepped away to allow him to return it to its closet.  

He locked up, and gestured for her to precede him to the door.  “To discuss the lecture today, right?”  

She shot a narrow-eyed look at him from over her shoulder.  “Of course. What else?”

He shut the lights of with a chuckle.


	19. LadyNoir: Sabotage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from ktwesterna on Tumblr:  
> 10 or 19 for ladynior? Or Adrienette? Just something cute. I love your writing!
> 
> Thank you so much!! Eep! Here’s your LadyNoir with a side of implied Adrienette. :)

“Hey, some of us have places to be, so let’s make this quick, huh?” He called, dropping in front of the akuma.

“Got a hot date, kitty?” Ladybug asked, landing behind him with her yoyo already whirring in her grasp.

“Something like that, my lady.” 

“I am le Saboteur, and I have come for your Miraculous!”

“Yeah, you and every other schmuck Hawkmoth has roped into doing his dirty work,” Chat grumbled. He dodged a spray of—is that icing?—that shot from her bouquet. “What’s your problem anyway? Shouldn’t you be dancing with your groom right about now?”

“Dance? Dance??” The white-garbed akuma stopped and turned, pointing to a long drape of fabric that had torn from the waist of her over-the-top gown. “How can I dance when my cretin of a father stepped on my dress and ripped it?”

Ladybug cringed. “Ok, that does suck, but why let it ruin your day?”

“I didn’t!” She shrieked, blasting them with more frosting. “I didn’t even let it ruin my day when the frosting melted off of my wedding cake!”

Chat dove, panting. “Then what are we doing here?”

“Daddy sent the photographer home!” Le Saboteur wailed, stamping her booted foot. “The reception was not over, but he let the photographer go! He sabotaged my whole day! Everything went wrong and my day was ruined and now I will sabotage everything else!”

“Right now, you’re not sabotaging anything but my evening. Can we get on with it?”

“Chat!” Ladybug grabbed her partner and yanked him down behind a car. “She’s had a rough day, cut her some slack.”

Chat gaped at her. “Don’t tell me you think she’s justified?” 

“No, but I sympathize.” She waved her hand dismissively. “But, whatever. Let’s just defeat her, so we can all get back to what we were doing. It’s probably in the bouquet, right?”

“Yeah, I’d say that’s a safe bet.”

“Okay. Lucky Charm!” A bottle of bright red fruit punch fell into Ladybug’s expectant hands, and she grinned. It wasn’t often that she got a straight-forward charm, but this was definitely one of those times. “Cover me, Chat! I have a dress to ruin!”

He nodded, and leapt out of hiding to draw Le Saboteur’s attention. His taunts were so successful that Ladybug calmly walked toward her, uncapped the bottle, and tossed the contents onto the still-pristine gown before Le Saboteur even knew that Ladybug had rejoined the fight.

The poor girl took one look at the giant red stain on her gown and burst into tears. Ladybug took the bouquet from her limp fingers with an apologetic grimace and easily tore it apart. As expected, a violent purple butterfly fluttered from the scattered flowers. Ladybug cleansed it with a sigh of relief, and turned back to the bewildered bride standing in the middle of the street.

The girl’s dress was a more understated version of her costume, and thanks to the Miraculous Cure, was as snowy white now as it had been at the beginning of the day. Even better, Tikki’s magic had fixed the tear at the waist! The only other time she could remember Tikki fixing something like that was Alix’s heirloom watch. Ladybug silently promised her kwami an extra special treat later as a thank you, but for now—BEEP! 

“Chat! I’ve got to bug out, can you make sure she’s ok?”

“But—my date—”

“So you are on a hot date!” Ladybug laughed, and flicked the bell at his throat. “Sorry, Chaton, but I’m on a timer and you’re not. I’m sure she’ll forgive you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled as she prepared to swing away. “I’m just lucky that Marinette is so forgiving—”

Ladybug froze mid-swing, and her yoyo clattered to the ground, momentarily forgotten. “What did you say?!”

“Er, nothing?” He stepped to the girl and swept her off her feet, bridal-style, without so much as a by-your-leave. “Gotta get this bride back to her groom. Bye!”

Ladybug watched him go with wide, suddenly knowing eyes, and only the beeping of her Miraculous recalled her to herself. She managed to make it back to the uptown restaurant before losing her transformation, and returned to her table to wait for Adrien. 

That sneaky cat, she thought, smiling happily. I guess I was the hot date.


	20. Ladrien (EXPLICIT)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Warning, this chapter is nothing but a gratuitous sex scene. If you're not interested in reading that, then you should skip this one. Don't say I didn't warn you.**
> 
> Here's a bit of B/D Ladrien smut, complements of my husband, Warbond. Enjoy, sinners.

Ladybug ran a gloved finger down the center of Adrien's naked chest, humming to herself appreciatively as she followed the contours of his well-chiseled form. She smiled up at him as his abs flexed under her touch.

"I love your body," she murmured, mostly to herself. "A girl could spend all day appreciating it." She punctuated her statement by touching her lips to the pronounced ridge that arrowed from his hip to his groin, feathering the skin there with the lightest of kisses. She smiled again as he squirmed.

She looked up at him but kept her lips close to his skin. "Enjoying yourself, Mr. Agreste?" He nodded slowly, entranced. "It's okay," she continued, her lips brushing against him as she spoke. "You may speak."

"Mmm, hmmhmm," he replied around the gag in his mouth, his hooded eyes watching her every move.

"Good," Ladybug said, looking back down before nipping at the taut flesh of his abdomen, eliciting another jerk and a deep throated grunt.

"And this..." she trailed off, running her hand on the inside of his thigh up to the tight skin of his scrotum, "This is very well done." She cupped his balls and squeezed gently, causing his eyes to close and his already straining cock to surge. She circled a finger lazily around the base of his swollen flesh and grazed her palm once again under his sack, lifting it as though testing its weight. "I have to admit that I wasn't expecting you to shave *everything*, but it does have a certain appeal." She appraised his crotch critically.

"It lets me do this..." She lowered her head once more and planted a wet kiss just above his cock, her hair brushing against him enticingly. "And this..." She avoided any incidental contact to plant another kiss on his balls, suckling gently. Adrien's hips flexed upwards, desperate for more contact.

Ladybug exhibited a small measure of mercy and extended her tongue to lave a single broad stroke from the bottom of his sack up to the base of his manhood. Adrien breathed heavily through his nose and finally relaxed back against the bed.

"God, you are sexy when you're all tied up." Ladybug shifted on the bed and swung her leg over Adrien's supine form to straddle his stomach. Anticipating more, Adrien pulled fitfully against his restraints, the muscles in his arms flexing deliciously, his fingers reaching impotently towards Ladybug.

"Ah ah ah," she said chidingly. "You're mine. Maybe if you're a good boy I'll let you touch me." She bent forward and took his face into her hands, admiring the contrast of his flawless skin against the stark red of her suit. Adrien pulled a deep breath through his nose and moaned around the gag. Ladybug pulled her face close to his and searched the brilliant green of his eyes.

"For now," she whispered seductively, pushing herself upright. "You can watch." She caressed his pecs, circling his nipples with her thumbs. She spread her knees further and pressed herself against his abs, gasping at the intimate contact. Pushing against his chest, she rocked against him, rubbing herself on his muscles. Her eyes fluttered closed and her mouth opened to let out a small moan.

Adrien's breathing intensified as he stared, transfixed at the display. Ladybug gyrated her hips against him harder and faster, working up to a steady rhythm. He groaned as he felt the moist heat build between her legs. He could feel his heartbeat throbbing in his cock as Ladybug bit her lower lip and ground herself against him harder, using him for her own pleasure.

Ladybug's moans crescendoed and came to an abrupt stop as her body tensed on top of him, convulsing for long moments, her hips jerking back and forth against him. Finally relaxing, she lay boneless against him, panting until she could catch her breath.

"Mmm," she said, turning her face against his neck, "I guess those abs of yours are good for more than just looking at." She kissed his neck sensuously, eliciting another groan from him before throwing her leg back over his body and sitting back on her heels.

"Aww, poor baby," she said miserably, looking down at his engorged length. "Have I got you all worked up? Oh, look at you. You look so helpless. How thoughtless of me to ignore you for so long!" She grabbed the base of him with one hand and wiped her other thumb gently across the head, where a line of pre-cum was losing its fight against gravity.

She stuck her thumb in her mouth and sucked at the evidence of his arousal. "Mmm, have you been drinking pineapple juice?" Adrien nodded, a blush creeping up his cheeks.

"Oh, you *have* been a good boy, haven't you? I think that deserves a reward." Ladybug crawled between Adrien's spread legs and sat on the bed, situating herself so that her knees were positioned over his thighs and her feet were to either side of him. She settled herself in and slowly wrapped both hands around his thick member, one above the other, creating as much contact as possible. He jumped at the touch. She drew her hands up just until she made contact with the ridge of the head, then reversed directions until her lower hand was pressed into his body.

By the third full stroke Adrien's chest was heaving. He pressed his hips upward, trying to achieve more friction. He could already feel his climax quickly approaching. "Relax," she said as she stroked upwards. With effort he forced himself to regulate his breathing and calm himself.

His calm lasted all of two more languorous strokes before his hips thrust upwards of their own accord. He whimpered as she squeezed him. "Not yet," she said, then stroked him again. He groaned around the gag and strained against his bonds. "You come when I tell you to," she said sternly as she stroked, her hands slowing to a crawl.

His abs flexed with every breath as he squeezed his eyes shut, his upper body lifting off the bed, groaning constantly in his fight against her hands. Against himself.

"Don't you dare fucking come." She squeezed him tightly as she tugged agonizingly slowly upwards. A sob escaped around the gag, followed by another. She reached the apex of her stroke and then let go of him entirely. He fell back against the bed and panted, his cock twitching.

"Good boy," she crooned. "So good. Look at all that pre-cum!" She grabbed the base of his cock in one hand and circled her fingers around his balls with the other. She tugged his sack gently towards herself and leaned forward, brushing her lips against the underside of him. He lurched at the contact, instantly returning to the precipice of orgasm.

Ladybug smiled devilishly as she stroked her tongue against his sensitive flesh. Adrien immediately flexed again and cried out against the gag. The sensations were too much. He couldn't hold out.

"Now," Ladybug demanded between slow licks. "Do it. Come for me." Adrien's legs quivered against her and his whole body strained. Ladybug felt his cock surge powerfully in her hand, the fleshy ridge on the underside standing out in spasmodic stark relief as his orgasm took over his body. Adrien's breath left him as he curled forward.

Thick ropes erupted from Adrien's straining cock, landing wetly on his stomach and chest. Ladybug turned her head sideways and trapped his shaft with her lips as her tongue continued its relentless assault. Her eyes widened as she watched, an involuntary moan escaping her lips as his orgasm continued unabated for several long moments.

Completely spent, Adrien jerked fitfully and finally collapsed against the bed, full-fledged sobs wracking his body as orgasmic aftershocks traveled through him. Ladybug quickly made her way up his body and unclasped his gag, pulling it carefully out of his mouth. She wiped a stray bit of drool from his lip and kissed him gently before laying herself nearly on top of him, heedless of the mess on his torso.

"Good boy," she whispered to him, stroking his hair and kissing the tears from the corner of his eye. "Such a good boy."


	21. ChloNath, Transformation/Rescue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ChloNath Week, Day 4: Transformation/Rescue  
> As an exhibiting artist, Nathanaël is stuck at the gala opening of the University Fine Art Gallery, and Chloe makes a surprise appearance.
> 
> This takes place a few weeks after the last one. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11065350/chapters/25009644
> 
> Also, I now have a ChloNath collection! If you want to read them all at once and in order, go here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11888667/chapters/26851539

“My my, Kurtzberg.”  Chloe sidled up next to him, a glass of chilled champagne in her hand, and made a show of looking him over.  “A tux, and not a paint splatter in sight?  That’s quite the transformation.” 

Nathanaël had turned to face her as soon as she’d started speaking, but his witty reply had died on his tongue, and how he felt as if he’d swallowed it.  She was wearing a form-fitting little black number with a low, draped neckline and narrow straps.  The narrow skirt reached to just below her knees.  Her hair had been swept into a graceful up-do, showing a great expanse of flawless skin.  An onyx and citrine necklace circled her throat, and matching earrings dripped from her lobes.   His gobsmacked gaze finally focused on her face, and he saw that her beautiful mouth was twisted into a smug smirk.  He found his tongue.   “Good evening, Chloe.  I didn’t—I didn’t realize that you’d be here. You, uh, you look lovely.”

 “I know I do.”  She paused for a sip of her champagne, and looked out over the crowded gallery.  “You clean up well, for a tomato head.”

Nathanaël chuckled, suddenly hating his tux a lot less now that he had just a few minutes ago.  “Be careful, Chloe.  If you keep paying me these compliments, I’m going to think that you like me.”

“Keep dreaming, Red,” she scoffed.

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t answer.  “So, what are you doing here?”

“I’m here with Daddy, making him look good.  What are you doing here?”

“I have six pieces in this exhibit.  I’m networking.”

“That sounds…spectacularly boring.”

“Oh, it is.”  He sighed, and finished his own glass of champagne.  “Honestly, this is the last place I want to be right now.  I hate dressing up like this, and I hate crowds.  But this is a great opportunity for me, and I’m trying to make the best of it.”

“Hmm.  How long have you been stuck here?”

He checked the time on his phone, and blew out a breath.  “Three hours, almost.”

She choked on her champagne.  “That’s it.”  She grabbed his arm and started towing him along behind her.

“Chloe!”  He hissed.  “What are you doing?”

“Rescuing you,” she hissed back.  While she was turned, she conveniently bumped into another guest, spilled champagne down the front of her dress, and started shrieking. 

The man she'd bumped into regarded her with an embarrassed flush.  “Oh my goodness, young lady, I am so sorry!”

“Oh, no, really, it’s fine.  But I’m afraid I’ll have to leave, I can’t possibly stay in a wet dress.”  She turned to her father, and Nathanaël was startled to realize that Chloe had managed to bump into the very man that her father had just been schmoozing.  “Daddy, I wouldn’t dream of dragging you away from the gala early.  We only just got here, after all.  Kurtzberg can take me home.”

Nathanaël blinked. “I can?”

“Oh, uh, of course, sweetheart.”  Andre Bourgeois turned to Nathanaël and narrowed his eyes threateningly.  “Take good care of my little girl, young man, or you will answer to me.”

“Oh Daddy, don’t be so medieval.  We’ll be fine.”  She started to turn, then stopped and faced her father once again.  “Oh, and Daddy?  I want that moving bee sculpture for the hotel lobby.”

 Nathanaël felt his jaw drop.  “You do?”

“Yes, dear.  I’ll have it delivered as soon as this exhibit closes.”

“Thank you, Daddy! Ta!”

And with that, she slipped her arm through his, and not-to-subtly began to lead him out of the gallery, seemingly oblivious to the whispers that followed them.

“Close your mouth, Kurtzberg.”

“You want my bee sculpture?”

She shrugged carelessly.  “I like bees.”

He peered at her closely.  “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He smiled.  “You did!  You bumped into that man on purpose, because he was talking to your father.  You planned that whole thing.”

She gave him a haughty glance.  “Now why would I go and do a thing like that?”

His smile grew to a grin, knowing that they both knew exactly why she’d done it.  “Thanks, Chlo.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

They stepped through the automatic doors at the front of the building, and into the balmy night air.  He slowed his steps and pulled her around to face him.  “You know I don’t have a car, right?”

She waved a hand and pulled her phone from the clutch at her wrist, and began dialing.  “We’ll take Daddy’s car.  The driver can drop us off, and come back for him.”

He smirked down at her.  “Us?”

She blushed, and looked away from him.  “Don’t be dense, Red.  You’re going back to your dorm, and I’m going back to the hotel.”

The driver picked up and she took a few steps away as she began rattling off instructions.  For the first time, Nathanaël noticed that the dress was entirely backless, not only revealing a great deal more skin, but a delicate bee tattoo as well.  It was low on her back and partially obscured by the dress, and he wondered how much more there was to the design.   He forced his eyes to the sky with a smile on his lips.

 

               


	22. MariChat, You're Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a series of drabbles written in response to asks over on Tumblr. Most will be short, and they will cover a broad range of relationships and themes. I am treating these as speed writes, so I'm editing only for grammar and spelling, so please forgive me if these aren't as polished as what I usually try to post.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prompt from Anon on Tumblr:  
> "I'm not jealous I'm just... you're mine!" Marichat? Maybe even thief! Chat AU
> 
> Not exactly the thief!Chat AU, buty definitely a something AU.

“Put me _down_ , you overgrown house cat!”

Chat Noir paused on a rooftop to set the struggling woman on her feet before she fell from his arms.  “There. Are you ok?”

“No, I’m not ok!  Take me back! You had no right to— _oof_!”

Her words cut off on an abrupt exhalation as he bent and set his shoulder into her stomach, and lifted her with his arm clamped across the backs of her knees.  He ignored her renewed struggles and continued on his way, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Damnit, put me down!  What are you, a cave man?   _Ooooh, put me down_!”

“I will.  When I get us somewhere safe.”  He swatted her back side with just enough force to surprise her, and she stilled for a moment.  “That’s better.  Now hold still, we’re almost there.”

She huffed but didn’t resume her squirming.  He knew better than to take it to mean that he’d heard the end of it; she was only biding her time.

Sure enough, the moment he deposited her on the small balcony outside her apartment she slapped at his bell angrily.  “What the hell is wrong with you?  I was getting somewhere with them!”

He leaned lazily against the balcony railing, his arms crossed over his chest.  “Sure you were.  You were getting close to going home with one of them.”

“ _Ooh_ , of all the arrogant, overbearing— _ugh_!!  What does it matter to you if I was?  You and Ladybug haven’t been able to learn anything about what they’ve been doing by fighting them head-on _or_ by skulking around, but my plan had potential!  A little bit more time, and a little more alcohol in his system, and I’d have had him talking—”

“Marinette, he was eyeing you like a piece of meat.  He had no intention of ‘talking’ with you.”

“Well of course, that was the idea.  Distract him with a bit of cleavage and—”

“A bit?”  He scoffed, straightening away from the railing.  You’re showing more than ‘a bit’ there, Princess.  Are you sure you weren’t offering a gilded invitation?”

She gaped at him, bemused.  “What is your problem?  Are—are you _jealous_?”

“I’m not jealous.  I’m just…” He trailed off, and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “You’re mine, okay?”

“ _What_?” She all but shrieked, and began pacing incredulously on the small balcony.  “How do you figure that?  We aren’t dating, you’ve never so much as _kissed_ me, and _mmpf_!”

She froze the moment his lips touched hers.  She didn’t kiss him back, but at least she didn’t pull away.  He kept his hands bracketed around her face, and stroked his thumb over her cheek.  “I want you to be mine, then,” he whispered, his mouth only a few bare centimeters from hers.

“You _are_ jealous,” she breathed, her eyes wide.  

“Yes, damnit.  And I was afraid for you.  You’re mine to protect, if nothing else.  You can’t deny me that.”

Her eyes hardened.  “I can, and I will.  You don’t own me Chat Noir.  You aren’t my keeper.”

“ _Merde_ , Marinette.”  He dropped his hands and stepped away from her, burning both with anger at her foolishness and the pain of her rejection. “You’re too damned stubborn for your own good.  Please, at least tell me you won’t go back there and try again.”

She scoffed.  “How can I? You claimed me as yours in front of the lot of them, and then carried me away with you.  I’d say the cat’s out of the bag, now.”

“Well at least there’s that, then.”  He dropped his elbows to the railing and hunched over to rest his chin on his crossed arms, staring at the city beyond her balcony, but not really seeing it.

He heard her sigh, and saw her move into his peripheral vision.  He turned his head to look at her, and saw that she’d hitched her hip against the railing next to his elbow, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes on his face.

“You’re an ass,” she said finally.

He grunted and returned his gaze to the street.

“But you’re my ass, aren’t you?”

His eyes shot back to hers, and he saw both hunger and possession in her eyes.  He straightened, watching as she raised one hand to trace her fingers over her lips.

“And I think,” she continued wonderingly.  “I think that I might be yours after all.”

“ _Dieu merci_ ,” he said emphatically, closing the short distance between them.  He reclaimed her lips for another kiss, and she met him eagerly, opening her mouth beneath his on a moan.  He shuddered beneath the passion in her kiss, lashing his arms around her back and growling when she lifted herself against him to wrap her legs around his waist.  

She groped behind herself blindly with one hand, until her fingers met cool glass.  She pushed the door open and he carried her through, sliding it closed once more with his booted foot.


	23. LadyNoir, Don't Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spinzgirl asked: _If you know Kallura can you do 11 (don't let go) romance? If not then any of the love square pairings please and thank you!_  
>  I have watched Voltron a little bit with my kids, so I know the characters, but not NEARLY well enough to write them and do them justice. So, have some silly LadyNoir instead??

“Don’t let go, I can’t see!”

“Easy, Bug.  I’m right here.”  Chat squeezed her hand reassuringly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness.  There was almost no light at all; even with his enhanced vision, he could see just enough to navigate the large office, if he was careful.  Ladybug, whose vision was not enhanced, would be completely blind.  He tugged on her hand, but she didn’t move.  “Come on, we need to get out of here.”

“Chat, I can’t see anything at all.”  Her voice quavered with panic. “I can’t see!”

“Hey, it’s all right.”  He turned back to her and gripped her shoulder with his free hand, wincing when she jumped at the unexpected contact.  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

She relaxed a bit and stepped closer to him, and he pulled her into a hug.

“Why aren’t you freaking out?”  She asked, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

“I can see, a little bit.  Well enough to get us out of here, at least.”  He rubbed her back comfortingly, and tried not to notice that the woman he loved had pressed her very nubile form fully against his body.  “I never took you for one to be afraid of the dark,” he teased gently, hoping to goad her out of her fear—and to distract himself.

“I’m not!” She replied hotly, stepping back so that she could scowl at him, and his arms fell away from her.  He thought he’d succeeded, but at the loss of contact, her expression became panicked. “Chat?”

“I haven’t gone anywhere, my lady.”  She’d reached out blindly; he took her trembling hands in his own, and she pressed in close to him once more.  He gave a mental shrug and decided to just go with it, inappropriate thoughts and all.  He rested his chin on her head and resumed rubbing her back.

“Perhaps I am a little afraid,” she admitted, oblivious to his distraction.  “But this is different. I’ve never experienced a dark like this before.  I can’t see anything _at all_ , and it’s—it’s unnerving.”

He tipped her chin up, despite knowing that she couldn’t see him.  “You trust me, right?”

“Of course I do!”

“Then trust me to lead us out of here safely, so we can take care of that akuma.”

“Okay.”  She took a deep breath and let it out slowly through pursed lips, looking for all the world as if she were waiting for a kiss.

So he gave her one.

She jolted back with a shriek.  “What was that?” 

She jolted forward with another shriek, wrapping herself around his arm.  “Don’t let me go!”

“Sorry, sorry!  You looked like you were waiting for a kiss.  And you’re the one who keeps letting me go.”

“Well, I suppose that was better than our last kiss.”

He blinked at her in confusion, certain that he’d misheard her. “Wait, _what_?”

“Oh, did you hear that?  We’d better get out there and tackle that akuma!”  She spun away and promptly ran into something with a clang.  “ _Ow_.  ”

He shook himself.  If she was running, then it meant he _hadn’t_ misheard her.  He took her hand and tugged her toward the open path through the maze of desks.  “One seeing-eye Chat, at your service, My Lady.  But don’t think for a moment that we won’t revisit this conversation later.”


	24. Adrienette (EXPLICIT)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have another one from Warbond!! 
> 
> This one is set post-reveal, married Adrienette--and it is almost all smut.***
> 
> **Warning, this chapter is little more than sex. If you're not interested in reading that, then you should skip this one. Don't say I didn't warn you. I hope you enjoy it!

Marinette faintly heard the window slide open and then shut with a solid thunk. She glanced up from her project in time to see a green flash of light from around the corner before the shadowed shape of a head poked into the hallway. She arched an eyebrow in the silhouette’s direction. The figure stepped fully into the hallway and stalked cat-like towards the light.

 “Hey, Princess,” Adrien said, smiling as he approached Marinette’s desk. She beamed back at him.

 “Hey,” she replied, angling her face upwards expectantly. Adrien bent down and covered her lips with a less than chaste kiss. His tongue darted into her mouth enticingly, but he pulled back just as quickly, breaking the contact. “Woah,” she continued, wiping the corner of her mouth with a thumb. “Good night?”

 “Eh,” he said noncommitally, pulling off his jacket and placing it on a hook next to the book shelf. “The usual.” Adrien sat down on the couch and began untying his shoes.

 “So petty criminals and cats in trees have you all worked up?”

 “Ha, no,” he said, smiling. Grabbing his shoes in one hand, he stood and stepped towards the hallway. Marinette watched him curiously, waiting for more. Adrien stopped and looked at the ceiling for a moment before saying, “I’ve… come to a decision.”

 Marinette furrowed her brow. “A decision?”

 Adrien’s smile widened at her look of consternation. “Yeah. About that thing we were talking about the other night?” Marinette cast her eyes downward, as though the wood-paneled floor might be hiding the answer. Adrien waited a moment before shrugging and turning away.

 “Welp! I’m beat. Gonna go take a shower and hit the hay. Goodnight!”

 “Wait, you mean--“ Understanding bloomed on her face and she looked up suddenly only to see Adrien’s back disappear into their bedroom. “Wait a minute!” she demanded, throwing the forgotten bit of cloth down on her desk and rising to march after him. “Adrien Agreste, you come back here!”

* * *

The wait was interminable, but Marinette perked up as the door swung open and the bathroom light clicked off. Adrien walked out nonchalantly, toweling his perpetually mussed hair and wearing only form-fitting boxer briefs. She felt a thrill at seeing him like this, so relaxed and confident. She still wasn’t used to it. She suddenly felt slightly self-conscious in her threadbare t-shirt and plain panties.

 He smiled insolently at her and tossed the damp towel onto the chair in the corner, causing her eyes to narrow marginally. Marinette crawled to the edge of the bed to meet him and positioned herself on her knees, putting them nearly face to face. He wrapped an arm around the small of her back and pulled her into a brief kiss. Marinette placed her hands on his chest and looked up into Adrien’s eyes, searching for a way to voice her thoughts. Adrien’s smile faded at her serious look.

 “Marinette, listen. If you don’t want to--“

 “No, it’s fine,” she interrupted, then paused, looking down at her hands where she was caressing his collar bone. She swiped at a stray bead of water, stalling for time. “I… What did you decide?”

 Adrien couldn’t tell if it was fear or hope that tinged her voice, but he steeled himself and plunged ahead. “Yes,” he said simply.

 Marinette’s eyes widened and a smile touched her lips. “Yeah?”

 He smiled back. “Yeah. Definitely.” His brow furrowed. “You?”

 She hadn’t told him, but she had made her decision just that morning. She spoke without hesitation. “Yes.”

 Adrien let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He dug his hand into the hair at the nape of Marinette’s neck and pulled her in for a longer, more passionate kiss, reveling in the feel of her soft body against his. After long moments they parted.

 “So…” Marinette started shyly, digging a finger into the waistband of his underwear and leaning back slightly to look at him. “I hope you’re not _too_ tired.”

 “You want to start now? Like, right now?” he said, astonished.

 She circled her arms around his waist and rested her hands on his backside. “God, yes. I’ve been thinking about it all day! It’s all I’ve been able to think about, and it’s had me very… very… ready.” She punctuated the last word with a squeeze, making Adrien jump.

 He caressed her jaw with his other hand and kissed her again. “Oh my god, me too.” He pushed her back against the bed and pulled himself on top of her, kissing her all the way down. Marinette pulled herself up to rest her head on the pillows, trading kisses with Adrien as she went.

 “Is _that_ why you kissed me like that when you came home?” she said as he kissed his way down her neck, his hands worming their way underneath her soft shirt.

 “That patrol… lasted forever!” he said between kisses. “I was so glad… to see that you… were still awake.” He tugged the hem of her shirt up, prompting her to lift herself and pull it off the rest of the way. When she was settled back against the pillows he lowered himself onto her, pressing his chest against hers. She moaned at the safety she felt being underneath him, his body pressing against hers comfortingly. His smooth chest sent electric jolts through her nipples as he moved. He held up his weight on his elbows and snaked his arms behind her, further encircling her in that feeling of security. He pressed his lips to hers and, turning his head slightly, opened his mouth. Marinette responded instantly, suckling at the invasion of his probing tongue.

 Marinette stopped suddenly and pulled away, looking up at Adrien in wonder. He stared back, confused.

 “No more condoms,” she said. Adrien’s eyes widened.

 “No more condoms!” he agreed.

 Smiling, they resumed their attack on each other. Adrien slipped to one side without breaking contact with Marinette’s lips and ran his hand down her side, skirting her exposed breast and rounding her hip. He laid his hand flat against her belly and glided it back up, narrowly avoiding contact with her nipple before circling back down again. He wanted to feel all of her, forever. Her hands, too, were not idle. She stroked a hand through his hair and pulled his face to hers, caressed his arm and his muscular shoulder and back, enjoying the pure masculinity of him; a far cry from the boy she fell in love with.

 Marinette moaned into Adrien’s mouth as his hand palmed her breast with a squeeze. He dragged his fingers down to her nipple and rolled the distended tip between his finger and his thumb, eliciting another sexy moan. Marinette rolled herself towards him and hooked her leg over his, pulling him into her. She ground herself against him as they made out, stoking the fires of her passion even hotter. Adrien shifted his hips to position the ridge of his erection against the apex of her thighs. He gasped as she gyrated her hips, stroking herself over his length.

 Adrien pulled his leg out from between hers and replaced it with his hand, cupping her mound and digging them into the damp heat there, causing Marinette to gasp. He probed against her flesh and pulled his fingers to the top of her slit.

 “Take them off,” she panted between kisses. He pulled himself away from her only long enough to comply, Marinette lifting her hips and kicking off the offending garment. Adrien lowered his head and kissed her breasts while dragging a finger through her slick core, pulling her juices up to her throbbing clit and circling it gingerly. Marinette moaned louder and grabbed his hair to pull his face against her, encouraging him to suck harder. Her hips seemed to continue their gyrations of their own accord as he repeated his deft manipulation of her sex.

 “Oh, god, I love it when you moan like that,” Adrien said, pulling away from her briefly.

 “I love it when you _make_ me moan like that,” Marinette responded breathlessly. “Adrien, please…”

 “I want to taste you first,” he said, kissing his way down her stomach. She spread her legs further, allowing him full access to her. She loved the way he made her feel. She felt sexy and confident and free. She could deny him nothing, especially not this. Adrien pressed a finger into her while he kissed her clit, forcing another groan from Marinette. She felt his tongue and lips press against her deliciously, parting her folds and sucking and kissing her everywhere.

 “Oh, god, just fuck me already,” she pleaded.

 Adrien didn’t say a word. He pulled his boxer briefs off, freeing his trapped erection, then climbed between Marinette’s legs. He pressed himself against her scalding wet heat and then looked up at his lover, breathing hard in anticipation of what he was about to do. Marinette was overcome with lust. To have him so tantalizingly close. Contemplating the enormity of the act, the consequences… She wanted it so bad it was almost a physical ache. She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him into her.

 Adrien grunted and thrust himself forward, burying his length into her with that single stroke. Marinette gasped at the invasion, his girth stretching her tight channel, her muscles spasming around him.

 “Fffuck, Marinette,” Adrien breathed. “I won’t last like this.”

 “Good. Fuck me,” she mewled. “Hard.”

 “Dieu,” he said as he pulled back slowly. He slammed himself into her again, his sack tightening against the base of his shaft. Every aspect of the scene in front of him was driving him towards the brink of explosion.

 “Fuck,” he said through gritted teeth. “What do you want, baby?”

 “I want you to fuck me,” she responded huskily, grabbing her pillow with one hand, exploring her body with the other.

 “Where do you want me to come?” He shook with the desire to prolong the experience. It was a losing battle.

 “Fuck,” she panted. “You know where.”

 “Say it,” he growled, picking up his pace.

 “Inside,” she gasped between thrusts. “I want you to come inside me.”

 “Mmm, why?” he prompted.

 “Oh god, I want… I want you to get me pregnant.” Her pulse quickened. Saying it out loud sent a shiver down her spine. She felt her body cry out in need.

 “You want me to put a baby in you?” The questions were becoming rhetorical. It was the lust driving him now, the desire to give her what she wanted.

“Fuck, yes, put a baby in me. Oh, fuck, come inside me!”

 It was all Adrien could bear. He thrust into her liquid core and felt his whole body stiffen as his orgasm overtook him. Marinette felt him spill into her, felt her womb contract as her own orgasm teetered on the brink, but she needed more. She dug her heels into his backside.

 “Keep fucking me!” she demanded.

 Moaning, Adrien jerked on top of her, trying to force himself into some semblance of a rhythm. Marinette’s heels spurred him on, guided him. He pistoned into her wetly, his orgasm still powering through him.

 Marinette squeezed her breast with one hand and Adrien’s arm with the other as she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts, his groin pressing directly against her clit. She could feel herself being filled. Already she imagined life blooming inside of her and the thought pushed her over the edge. She came powerfully, waves of pleasure washed through her, centering on the turgid flesh filling her.

 Still Adrien thrust himself into her, past the overwhelming sensation of his post-orgasmic sensitivity and into something else entirely. Marinette was still convulsing around him and squeezing herself, still pulling her hips up to meet him. She finally relaxed but continued to encourage him with her legs wrapped around his butt.

 “Fuck, keep going,” she panted, reaching between them to touch herself there.

 Impossibly, Adrien felt another orgasm rocketing towards him. He once again picked up his pace and started slamming into Marinette. He could feel her delicate fingers probing herself as their bodies made full contact.

 “Mon dieu, Marinette. I think I’m going to come again.”

 “God, yes, do it. Come inside me again. Fill me up.”

 It was all the encouragement he needed. He tensed again and once more fell into the pleasure of his orgasm. Marinette could feel his cock pulsing inside her, imagined herself getting larger with the life being planted inside of her, and crashed into her own orgasm.

 Finally Adrien collapsed on top of Marinette, panting for breath. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close. Eventually, when their breathing had calmed, they pulled away and looked into each other’s eyes.

 They couldn’t help it, they laughed.

 “That was…” Marinette started, shaking her head in wonder at the ceiling.

 “Amazing? Awesome? So fucking hot?” Adrien provided.

 Marinette laughed again. “Yes!” She looked back at Adrien and paused for a moment, then smiled and said, “Let’s do it again.”


	25. Ninoir, Oh what the hell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> elements1999 asked: _Oooo! For that new story on prompts on AO3, could you do something for DJNoir and/or AdrienNino? Maybe like Nino is second guessing dating Chat because he also loves Adrien and Adrien is just like "what the hell" and tells him? Please!_
> 
> I did my best!! This is my first time writing this ship, so please forgive me if it’s lacking. Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Nino looked up at the scrape of his window in its frame, and watched as Chat Noir let himself into his room.  He gulped, steeling himself for a tough conversation, and swiveled his chair to face him fully.  “Hey, man.”

“Hey yourself.”  Chat walked over to where Nino still sat in his desk chair and braced his hands on the arms rests, leaning over him with a rakish smile.  “Working on something good tonight?”

“Ah, no.  Not really. I’ve been working on this track for two days, but I can’t get it to sound right.”

“That sucks.  But, at least it means you won’t mind me distracting you for a while, right?”  Chat leaned in to kiss him, but Nino shied away and his smile melted into a frown.  “What’s wrong?”

Nino shifted awkwardly in his seat, hating himself for the hurt he saw in Chat’s eyes.  “Can we, uh, talk?”

Chat paled, and sank slowly to Nino’s bed.  “I’m sorry.  I don’t know what I did wrong, but I—”

“No!”  Nino half-rose from his chair, thinking to offer comfort, but he didn’t want to send mixed signals.  He subsided in his chair with a sigh.  “No, Chat, you haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Then what is it?  No one ever says anything good after ‘can we talk’.”

“Well, I guess it’s not…exactly.” Chat’s cat ears flattened on his head and Nino gulped.  “Shit, this is harder than I thought it would be.”

“Just say what you need to say, Nino,” he said softly, staring at the floor.  “It’s ok.”

“Shit.  It’s—it’s like this.  I like hanging out with you.  Like, a lot. And—and the other stuff, too.”  He blushed hotly, thinking of some of that ‘other stuff’, but he ignored it and forged ahead.  “But I’ve also been getting closer to this friend of mine, and—and I think that he could be more than a friend.”

Chat stiffened, and his grip on the edge of the mattress went white-knuckled.  “I—I see.”

“ _Dieu_ , this is so shitty.”  Nino scrubbed his hands over his face, under his glasses, and readjusted them on his nose. “I’m so sorry man, I never meant to lead you on.   I just—I’m pretty sure that I’m in love with Adrien, and I have to—”

Chat’s head snapped up, his eyes wide and his ears pricked forward.  “ _What did you say_?”  He whispered.

“I—I think I’m in love with my friend, and I need to see where that could go.”

“No, I mean—which friend?”

Nino’s brow furrowed in confusion at Chat’s strange intensity, but he answered anyway.  “Uh, Adrien. But I don’t see why—dude, are you laughing?”

“Maybe?”  He said, definitely laughing now.

“Dude, what the hell?  Did I just break your brain?”

“No, no I’m fine.  But, uh…wow. So this just got complicated.”

“Yeah.  Are you sure you’re ok?  Because just a minute ago, you seemed really upset, and now….you’re not.”

“I’m fine, Nino, really.  It’s just—oh what the hell,” he said, laughing.  Chat Noir stood and sauntered over to brace his arms on the chair once more, his rakish smile back in place.  “Plagg, claws in.”

Green light washed over Chat Noir, taking the black suit and its mask.  Adrien’s grin widened at the flummoxed expression on Nino’s face, and he leaned in until their lips were only a breath apart.  

“Can I kiss you _now_?” Nino nodded mutely, and Adrien’s grin softened to something far more tender.  “Good, because I think I might love you, too.”


	26. MariChat, Don't let go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maerynn asked: _hey! I love your writing A LOT. Would you mind indulging me with a bit of Marichat?_
> 
> I love to write MariChat! Here is a wee bit, just for you.

“Don’t let go, Chat!  I’m almost done.”

“I told you I wouldn’t,” he replied, patiently holding the pattern in place as she scooted awkwardly under him to cut the fabric around it.  “What do you do when I’m not here to hold down your— _oof_ —patterns?”

“Oops, sorry!  I didn’t mean to elbow you.  Um, I have pattern weights.”  She finished cutting the fabric and slid the cover down over the blade of her rotary cutter, then gestured to the mess of sewing supplies in the corner.  “But you saved me the trouble of digging them out.”

He blew a piece of her hair out of his mouth.  “Can I move now?”

“Oh!  Yeah, I’m done cutting it out.”

He straightened gratefully, and wandered over to her sewing corner. There were three [small, pink, cylindrical bean bags](http://www.daydreemz.net/uploads/1/0/8/0/10802371/dritz-607pink2_1_orig.jpg) sitting right on top; he curiously picked one up and tossed it into the air.  “Is this a pattern weight?”

“Huh?”  She glanced up from where she was shifting things around on her desk, and focused on the item in his hand.  “Oh! Yeah, that’s one of them.  I have four or five of them around somewhere.”

“There are three, right on top here.”  He picked up the other two weights and began juggling them.  “Did you not look?  Or did you just want the excuse to get to close to me?”

She looked at him sharply, blushing.  “I uh, didn’t look,” she mumbled.

“And Princess, I couldn’t help noticing that this fabric is black and slinky, but that your thread is an interesting shade of green.”  He sidled closer to her, still juggling her pink pattern weights.  

“You—you did?”   Her blush deepened, and she shoved the incriminating green thread into a drawer.  “I mean, I left that out from another project.”

“And your pattern piece was such an _intriguing_ shape.”  He nudged her shoulder with his arm without dropping any of the weights.

“Is it?”  She squeaked.  “I mean, no, it isn’t.  Just a normal pattern, for a normal piece of everyday clothing.  Nope, nothing intriguing about it.”

“Princess?”

“Ye-es?”

He leaned over, still juggling the weights, and touched his forehead to hers.  “Are you making Chat Noir themed panties?”

“No!”  Her face paled and then darkened to crimson so quickly that he worried she might faint.  “No no no no no!  I’m making a Chat Noir _bikini_.”

All three of the weights fell to the floor with muted thuds.

_Bonus addition:_

Marinette looked from the fallen weights to the arrested expression on his face, and glanced away with another blush.  “I actually already made the panties,” she murmured, peeking at him from beneath her fringe.

“Guh…!”


	27. LadyNoir, Scar Tissue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: _Can you do ladynoir with_ scar tissue _please? Maybe make it romantic but only if you want to! I'm happy with whatever you do_
> 
> Well, Anon, I’m not sure whether this is what you had in mind, but angst was the only way that I could think of to do scar tissue and romance. So here, have some Chat Blanc! 
> 
> (Thanks to @seasonofthegeek for the suggestion that I write Chat Blanc!)

“Marinette,” Chat cooed, drawing the back of one clawed finger over her cheek. “Mar-in-e-ette!  Wake up my lovely little Bug.”

“Chat?”  Her lashes fluttered, and she stretched languorously.  “Chat, what are you doing here so late?  Is everything alright?”

“Well, I suppose that depends.”  He stretched his body out over hers, lying between her legs with his chin propped on one hand, and effectively pinning her in place with his body weight.  “I think that things are finally very right, but I have a feeling that you aren’t going to agree with me on that, Bugaboo.”

She stiffened beneath him, her eyes blowing wide.  “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Chat Noir, but you’re kind of scaring me—”

“Chat Blanc.”

“What?”

“It’s Chat Blanc, now.  Chat Noir was weak, and cowardly.  I am neither.”

Marinette blinked again, willing her sleepy eyes to _focus_ , and finally realized that his normally green eyes were a glowing violet; his mask, normally a dark slash over his features in the shadows of her room, was light.  She traced her fingers over the lower edge of the unfamiliar mask and felt her heart sink. “Oh, Chat.”

His expression hardened, and he grabbed her wrist with his free hand.  “Don’t,” he sneered.  “Don’t you dare pity me.  All of this is your fault, you deceitful bug, and if I weren’t so thrilled with this outcome this would be a very different conversation.”

She stiffened again, and tried to jerk her hand away.  “ _My_ fault?”

He captured her other wrist, and pressed them both to the mattress, next to her head.  “It wasn’t enough that I fell for you as Ladybug.  No, you had to go and seduce me without your mask as well.”

She glared up at him, torn between confusion and anger.  “What are you talking about?”

“Was it funny, _my Lady_ , to watch me fall for you twice?”

“No!  Chat, I—”

“Did you enjoy deceiving me?”

“Dieu, of course not!  I hated—”

“You must have. But the fun has ended, because now I know the truth.”  He dipped his head and kissed her, the tender caress totally incongruent with the cruel smile twisting his lips.  

She turned her face away, angry tears spilling from her eyes.  

“How does it feel, my Lady, knowing how utterly you shattered me?” As he spoke, he shifted down her body and put his lips to her exposed neck.  “I would be upset, except that I’m quite enjoying this.”  

He drew his tongue over the fluttering of her pulse, and she made a noise low in her throat.  “Please, Chat,” she whispered.  “This isn’t you.  Don’t do this.”

He shifted back up, and licked the shell of her ear.  “Of course it’s me.  Would you rather I simply take your earrings, and leave?”  He closed his lips over the sensitive lobe, his teeth clacking against the earring, and she shivered in response.  “I only want to break you, Princess,” he whispered against her jaw.

“What if you’ve already broken me?” He laved the column of her throat and she gasped.  “What if—what if I’ve wanted this, but didn’t know how to tell you?”

He drew back to glare at her, squeezing her wrists almost painfully.  “You’re lying.  You’d say anything now, to disarm me.”

“I could have called for Tikki at any time, but I haven’t.”  She regarded him steadily.  “I could be fighting you, but I’m not.”

“No!”  

The outline of a purple mask appeared over his face, and Marinette’s eyes widened in alarm as Chat shook his head, as if in pain.  “No,” he said again, and she knew he wasn’t talking to her.  “I’ll do it my way or not at all.  If that doesn’t meet with your approval, then recall your akuma now.”   The glow of the outline intensified, and Chat curled in on himself, tightening his hands further as he grunted with pain.  

Marinette grimaced, but stifled her pained mewl.  She would have bruises on her wrists, but at this point, she’d count them both lucky if that were the worst of their problems after this.  Finally, the glowing mask disappeared, and Chat slumped bonelessly over her.  She pulled her arms from his slack fingers, and hugged his head to her chest, carding her fingers through his hair.

“Oh, my _Chaton_.  I’m so sorry.”

He stirred with a scoff, raising up to his elbows to glare down at her.  “Like you care.”

Her hands slid to his cheeks, and she smiled sadly.  “You don’t really think that, do you?”

“What else can I think?  If you cared for me, you’d have confided in me. You’d never have let us get so close, with your secret between us.”

“What of you, Chat?  You’ve not revealed yourself to me, either.”  She slid her hands back into his hair, and pulled him to her lips.

Her kiss was hesitant, at first, but when she met no resistance, she thrust her tongue boldly into his mouth. He was still for only a moment, and then he was kissing her back.  She made a sound of triumph in her throat, moving her hands to his shoulders and down his sides restlessly.  She forgot the color of his suit, the circumstances that had brought them to this moment, even the reality that Hawkmoth was privy to every intimate moment.  She gave herself up to this kiss, drowning in the wet heat of his mouth, the delicious weight of his body, and the hard arousal pressed against her.

All of a sudden, he broke the kiss on a gasp, curling in on himself as Hawkmoth tried once more to bend Chat Blanc to his will.

“Fight him!”  She framed his face with her hands, stroking her fingers over his cheeks and through his hair.  “Fight him, _Chaton_ , please!”

He rolled off of her, curling himself into a tight ball, and she followed him.  “M-my Lady, I-I can’t—”

“You _can_ ,” she insisted.  “Damnit, you can’t have him, Hawkmoth!  He’s _mine_!”  She wrapped her arms around him, her heart breaking at the pained tension running through his body.  “Do you hear me, _Chaton_?  I love you, and _you’re mine_.”

The light intensified again, and he whimpered.  Marinette caught a sob in her throat, but held on to him.  “I love you,” she whispered again and again, trying desperately to offer whatever support she could as he fought the battle alone inside his mind.  She didn’t know how long they were there, he curled into the fetal position and his body thrumming with tension and she draped over him, her arms locked tight around him.  So intent was she that she didn’t notice the white butterfly that fluttered out her open window sometime later, but she noticed immediately when the tension in him snapped like a cut bow string.  His black-clad body unfurled, and he drew in great gasping breaths.

“Chat?”  She frantically brushed the hair from his face, hoping that the black suit meant that he’d won.  He blinked open beautiful _green_ eyes and she sobbed in relief.  “ _Dieu merci_!   _Chaton_ , are you ok?”

He pushed himself to a sitting position and eyed her warily.  “That depends,” he said, still trying to catch his breath. “On whether you meant any of what you said.”

She opened her mouth to answer, and he placed a finger over her lips, forestalling her.  “My heart is already full of scar tissue.  I can take the truth, but I can’t bear any more lies.”

She puckered her lips, kissing the finger he still held to her mouth, and he shifted his hand to cup her jaw.

“I meant it all,” she whispered.

His eyes slid closed and he exhaled on a puff of air.  “Plagg, claws in.”


	28. ChloNath, First Kiss/Holding Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ChloNath Week, Day 5: First Kiss/Holding Hands
> 
> Also, I now have a ChloNath collection! If you want to read them all at once and in order, go here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11888667/chapters/26851539

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I'm super duper late with this, but hey, at least I've come back to it!!

Nathanael saw movement out of the corner of his eye, and saw Chloe rubbing the palm of her hand over her jeans.  He returned his attention to their professor with a mental shrug.

A few minutes later, he saw the same jerky movement in his peripheral vision and looked again; this time, she scratched the side of her neck, her elbow brushing his sleeve.  Frowning, he looked back to their teacher.

The third time, he was quick enough to catch the abortive move towards his hand, and he finally understood.  She was trying to hold his hand!  He felt his heart thump, and heat rise in his cheeks. It was one thing for her to seek him out, at the school or the gallery; friends do that sort of thing all the time. It was one thing for her to buy his sculpture; goodness knows, her father happily indulged her whims often enough. But for her to want physical contact, even something as simple as holding hands, was something else.

He leaned over to put his mouth by her ear.  “Are you trying to hold my hand, Bee?”

She flushed.  “Of course not!  I’m just…fidgety today,” she whispered back.  “And I told you not to call me that.”

“You like Bee just as much as I like Red.”

She darted a glance at him.  “You like it when I call you Red?”

He smiled warmly.  “I do.  And you just confirmed that you like Bee.”

She looked away with a sniff.   “Then I’ll have to quit calling you that.”

Nathanael studied her profile for a moment, and with his heart hammering in his chest, slowly reached out his hand to touch hers.  She looked to their hands with a quietly in-drawn breath, but didn’t pull away.  He slid his fingertips up the back of her hand, between her knuckles, and threaded them between hers to curl them against her palm.  Her eyes flicked to his, her mouth open in a small O.

Still holding her eyes, he bent his elbow and lifted their joined hands, gently tilting their wrists back to expose her palm, and pressed a kiss to the center.  She gasped again, and he felt his lips tip upward in an uncertain smile.

She didn’t return his smile.  Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, she blinked, and then she looked back toward the front of the auditorium.

Nathanael frowned, returned her hand to its place, and released her.  Had he misread her?

But then she grabbed his hand, palm to palm, and twined their fingers together.

His heart thumped again, but he spent the rest of the class with his hand in hers, and a smile on his face.


	29. ChloNath, I hate that I love you.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ChloNath Week Day 6: I hate that I love you. (I'm ignoring the "I love that I hate you" portion of the prompt.)
> 
> Also, I now have a ChloNath collection! If you want to read them all at once and in order, go here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11888667/chapters/26851539

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm plugging right along! Enjoy!

“Hello, beautiful.”  Nathanael smiled as Chloe flounced into the shared living area of his dorm, slung her bag onto the couch, and sat with a huff.  He tossed his books to the scarred coffee table, and pulled her booted feet into his lap.  “What’s got your wings in a twist today?”

She glared at him.  “Stop it.”

His smile faded as he looked at her, bewildered, and his hands paused at the zipper on her boot.  “Stop what?  I haven’t had a chance to do anything to piss you off yet.”  He pulled the boot from her foot and set it on the floor. “Have I?”

She rolled her eyes, and gestured towards him, as he eased her other boot from her foot and began to gently massage the arch.  “That!  Stop being so…so lovable!”

He blinked, and his hands stilled.  “I’m lovable?”

Chloe glared at him again, and sank back against the armrest with her arms crossed over her chest.  “You know you are,” she grumbled.

He grinned, and switched to her other foot.  “Well, I do, but only in the general sense.  I didn’t know that _you_ think I’m lovable.”

“Yeah, well, don’t let it go to your head, Red.”

“Do you know what, Bee?”  She looked at him, her brow raised, and he leaned towards her as if he were about to impart a secret.  “I think you’re lovable, too.”

“Ugh!”  She pulled her feet from him and stood.  “See?  That’s what I’m talking about.  You can’t keep doing that.  How can I keep you at arm’s length when you do that?”

He rose as well, and moved to stand directly in front of her, wondering if he should push her.  She glared at his chest, but he put a bent finger beneath her chin, and tipped her face up to meet his eyes.  “Why do you want to keep me at arm’s length, Chloe?”  He asked, his voice low and his pulse racing.

She moistened her lips, but said nothing.

He gulped, knowing that once said, these things could not be unsaid.  “What if I said that I want us to be closer?”

Her lips parted on a soft gasp.  “I’d—I’d tell you to dream on.”

He stepped closer, and rested his other hand on her hip.  “What if I told you that I do dream about you?  About us?”

“Then I’d—I’d—” She cut herself off, and licked her lips again.  “You do?  Really?”

“Yeah, I do.”  He pulled her closer still, until their bodies were separated by nothing but their clothing.  He studied her eyes, weighing the tenderness there against the words he wanted to say.  He took a deep breath, and forged ahead.  “I think I love you, Chloe.”

Her eyes widened, and then she squeezed them shut and dropped her forehead against his chest.  “I love you too, Red.  And I hate it.”

He felt her whispered words like blows, feeling both joy and despair slip through him.  He leaned his cheek on her head, and began rubbing her back.  “Why?”

“Because love makes you vulnerable.  I hate to be vulnerable.  I hate that I love you—”

“Chloe—”

“—because it gives you the power to hurt me.”

He closed his eyes, hurting _for_ her.  What had her life been, to have taught her to view love as a weakness?  He stepped back, his hands on her shoulders, and peered into her face.  “We have the power to hurt _each other_.”

She blanched.  “No!  I don’t want it.”

“I love you, Chloe.”  He shrugged, letting his hands fall.  “I—I don’t expect anything from you.  I’d like to see where this goes, to see what we could be, but if all you ever want from me is to be friends, I can—I can do that.  I won’t push you.”

“Damnit, Nathanael.  Damn you for making me _want_ things!”  She glared at him, holding her body rigid as she warred with herself.  He saw it, the moment that she gave in to herself, and she saw his eyes widen in understanding.  She surged forward and he met her, their arms going around one another and their lips crashing together with the intensity of a kiss too long denied.  

“Merde,” she breathed, sometime later.  “Why did we wait so long to do that?”


	30. ChloNath, Alternate Universes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ChloNath Week Day 7: Alternate Universe.
> 
> Also, I now have a ChloNath collection! If you want to read them all at once and in order, go here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11888667/chapters/26851539

“Have you ever thought about what your life might be like in an alternate universe?”

Chloe pushed herself up onto an elbow so stare blankly at Nathanael.

“What?  It’s fascinating.  The possibilities are endless.”

“Your post-coital train of thought is ever entertaining,” she said dryly.  Then she lowered her head back to his shoulder, squirming until she was once more tucked comfortably against his side.  His thumb resumed making lazy circles on her hip, and she sighed happily.   “I can only assume that you’ve been thinking about alternate universes.”

“Mmm.  I could be the spoiled child of the Mayor, and you could be the awkward artist,” he teased.

She slapped his chest, but without force.  “Bite your tongue, Tomato.”

“I like the idea of us being super heroes.  There has to be one like that!  You could be…Queen Bee, and fly around saving Paris in a magical super suit.”

“Yeah, along with my ladybug, cat and fox partners.”  She snorted at the absurdity of it.   “You’re ridiculous.  Would you be a hero, too?”

“Of course!  I’d be a…a peacock hero.”

“A _peacock_?  Yeah, right.”  She scoffed.  “You’re not vain _or_ flamboyant, and you lack flair.”

“Maybe.  But I am sinfully handsome, and the costume would match my eyes.”

“I take it back, you _are_ vain,” she deadpanned.

He chuckled.  “Maybe there’s one where our genders are flipped.  I’d be Nathalie, and you’d be…uh, Cole.”

Chloe giggled in spite of herself.  “Or one where we’re both girls?”

“That could be interesting.”

“Only if we were both bi or lesbian.”

He laughed.  “I can’t imagine a world in which I wouldn’t love you, regardless.”

“Oh, shut up, you dork, and kiss me.”

He rolled over her with a wolfish grin.  “As you wish, Queen Bee.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's a wrap for ChloNath Week! That was a fun little series to write. :) I hope you enjoyed reading it!


	31. Adrientte, Popcorn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a bit of coaching from Alya, Adrien invites Marinette over for a movie, in the hopes that they might get closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is in response to this ask from **ifirestone** on Tumblr:  
>  "Hi! If you're still taking prompts I was wondering if you could do “What? No. I wasn’t aiming for your hand. I was reaching for the, uh- popcorn.” with Adrienette? I just found your writing and I absolutely adore it."
> 
> Thanks, **ifirestone**!! I hope you like this, it’s a bit outside my normal style and it got a bit out of hand.

Adrien leaned against the back of his white couch, and wished for the millionth time that it was less ‘contemporary European’ and more ‘overstuffed luxury’. Still, he did have his own couch and home theater system _in his bedroom_ , so he figured that he had no business complaining.

Even if his friend (girlfriend?!) _did_ look incredibly stiff and uncomfortable sitting on his admittedly stiff and uncomfortable couch.

He rubbed the back of his neck, searching for something to say as the trailers played.  “So, uh, did you want some popcorn, maybe?”

Marinette jumped a little bit, and blinked.  A lot.  “Yeah, pop-, popcorn, good!”

“Oh-kay.  I’ll just text Nathalie, and let her know.”  He did just that, and smiled conspiratorially as he tucked his phone back into his pocket. “She promised to smuggle the contraband up here.”

She looked confused, and as he’d hoped, it was enough to distract her from whatever had her so stiff.  “Contraband?”

“Popcorn is not on my list of approved snacks,” he said, shrugging.  “But Nathalie is an excellent accomplice, when she wants to be.”

“Oh.  Well, that’s cool, right?”

“For sure!”

She smiled, but didn’t say anything else.

 _Why was she clamming up?  She hadn’t been like this with him in ages._   He cleared his throat.  “You said you haven’t seen this before, right?”

“What?  Yes.  I mean, no.”

His head tilted in confusion.  “Which is it?”

“Oh, ah, both, actually.”  She giggled nerviously. “Yes, you’re right, and no, I-I haven’t seen it before.”

“Oohh, okay.  Well, you’re going to love it.  It’s about a cat—from outer space!”

“I’d gathered that, actually, from the title.”  She eyed him thoughtfully.  “You’re kind of a dork, aren’t you?”

“Well, yeah, I guess—”

“OHMYGODICAN’TBELIEVEISAID THAT!”  She covered her face with her hands, and spoke between her fingers.  “I am so sorry, that was really rude!  Excuse me, I need to crawl beneath this sofa.”

He laughed, and gently pulled her hands from her face.  “It’s fine!  Honestly, it’s nice for someone to see me as something other than perfect.”  There was a knock at the door, and Adrien leapt up to get their popcorn.  “Perfect timing,” he said when he came back, pointing at the screen.  “It’s starting!”

“So it is,” she replied with another giggle.

He sat down in the middle of the couch, closer to Marinette than he’d been before, and kept the popcorn in his lap.  “Want some?”  He asked, knowing that she’d have to move closer still to reach it.

“Sure.”  She scooted over, until she was within easy reach of the large bowl.  

He smiled at his victory, and made a mental note to thank Alya for the suggestion.  “Help yourself, there’s plenty.”

She flashed him a smile, and sat back to watch the movie.  Periodically, she would reach blindly for another handful of popcorn, and eat it daintily, one piece at a time.  

Adrien found himself far more entertained by watching her, than he was by the movie.  She moved each piece to her mouth slowly.  Sometimes her lip would catch gently on the tips of her fingers; sometimes her hand would linger at her mouth, if she was particularly engaged in the movie. Adrien shifted a bit on the couch, in part to resettle the growing evidence of his interest in her mouth, and in part to surreptitiously move closer to her.

She didn’t notice.

 _Wow.  She must really be enjoying this movie_ …

He frowned, watching her hand dip back into the bowl from the corner of his eye, and then he grinned.  When she was once more nibbling away at her popcorn, he moved his hand to the bowl, and left it there.  Sure enough, when she reached for more, her hand encountered his, and her startled gaze whipped to his face.

“Are you trying to hold my hand, Marinette?”    

Her face flushed an even deeper shade of red than it had been earlier, and he felt guilty for having flustered her. “ _What_? No! I wasn’t aiming for your hand, I was reaching for the popcorn! Not—not that I wouldn’t want to hold your hand.  I mean, I would.  No!  I mean, ugh.  I’ll stop talking now.”

“Marinette, it’s ok!  I was just teasing you.”  His face heated, and he rubbed at the back of his neck again.  “To be honest, it was me.  I left my hand in the bowl, because I’m the one who wanted to hold yours.”

Her eyes widened, and he watched as she first paled, and then flushed scarlet.

“Marinette, are you ok?  Look, I won’t touch you if you don’t want me to—oof!”

He fell back onto the couch, the wind knocked from his lungs by the force of her body landing on his.  Or was it the feeling of her lips on his that stole his breath?  Because her lips were definitely on his, and it was a feeling he hadn’t expected, but decided immediately that he liked.

A lot.

But, just as he found the wherewithal to wrap his arms around her, she pulled back with a squeak.

“OhmygodIcan’tbelieveIjustdidthat,” she whispered.  “I’m so sorry, kissing is very different from holding hands, and I _tackled_ you and ohmygodkillmenow.”  She hid her face in her hands again.

 _Well, that was no good_.  He didn’t want her to be uncomfortable, or embarrassed. “Actually, I think kissing is better than holding hands.”

Her hands dropped from her face as she regarded him in surprise.  Which would have been fine, really, except that she was still kneeling between his legs, and when her hands dropped, they landed… _there_.

Pain exploded low in his belly, and he jack-knifed himself into the fetal position, rolling off of the couch and hitting his head on the coffee table on the way down.

_So, that just happened._

“Did I…was that… _merde_ , Adrien, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m…fine,” he croaked, still cradling the family jewels.  

“Did I just, uh…”

“Ye-up.”

She stood.  “I’ll just—I’ll just show myself out.”

“What?”  He pushed himself up from the floor, still moving gingerly, and stood as well.   _Man, she’d really nailed him_.  “No, I don’t want you to leave.”  

“You—you don’t?”

“I mean, not unless you want to.”

“Oh.  But I—”  She gestured helplessly toward his crotch, and flushed crimson again.

“It’s ok, really.  I know it was an accident.”  He stepped a little closer to her, and brushed her hair back out of her eyes. “And—and I really would like to kiss you again.”

She blinked in surprise, and her lips parted.  

“May I?”

She nodded, and he smiled as he lowered his face to hers.


	32. Adrienette, Say My Name, MATURE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt:  
> "Omg I love your writing! So well done~ Could you do prompt 19 (say my name) for Adrienette with smut?? If not that's okay! Love your work!!"

“Say it again.” Adrien ran his thumb gently along her jaw, his mouth tipped up at the corners.

Marinette’s mouth fell into a moue of confusion.  “I love you?”

He chuckled, and kissed the corner of her mouth.  “No, the part where you said my name.”

“Oh,” she said, understanding dawning in her eyes.  “ **Adrien**.”

He sighed deeply, and shifted on the pillow to touch his forehead to hers.  “My lady. My Marinette.”

She smiled, and pulled his mouth back to hers.  “I love you, _mon minou_ ,” she said against his lips.  “My Adrien, my love.”

“Mmm.  I don’t think I will ever get tired of that.”  He moved his hand from her jaw to her bare shoulder, and slid his fingertips down her arm.

She kissed him again. “Adrien.”  

His hand ran back up to her shoulder, and then around to her back and down, down to the dip just above her _derriere_.  

“Adrien.”

His hand moved down farther still, cupping her ass through the thin fabric of the sheet, and pulled her hard against him.

Her breath caught, and she briefly trapped his lower lip between her teeth.  “Adrien,” she whispered against his mouth.

Still pressing her hips into his, he rocked against her, knowing she would feel his renewed desire. “I want you again, my lady.”

“ **Adrien** ,” she replied, slipping her tongue into his mouth and lifting her thigh to hook her leg over his.  

He took that for the assent it was, and pushed her hips back to align himself with her body.  He eased forward, his fingertips digging into the flesh at her hip as he forced himself to go slow.  She was still slick from their earlier lovemaking, and he was still sensitive.  He wanted to make this last, to enjoy this moment for as long as they could, so he loved her slowly.  

She moved with him, still murmuring his name.  She seemed to share or at least understand his desire to draw it out, kissing him leisurely and allowing her hands to roam as their breathing grew more labored and their movements more staggered.  Soon their kisses were only brief punctuations as they panted, warm breath puffing on damp lips.

When she began to squirm, he rolled them, so that she lay on her back.  He dipped his fingers between them, then slid his wet fingertips over her sensitive nub.  She began to writhe beneath him, her hands clutching the sheets at her sides.  He steadied her hips with his hands, still going slow, still ignoring the urge to move faster, to reach for the release that he knew was close.  

“ _Dieu_ , Adrien, **please** _,_ ” she panted, her back arched and her face flushed.

He groaned, lifting her hips with both hands, and canting his.  

She gasped at the new angle, and replaced his fingers with her own.  And just like that, she came apart, shuddering with the intensity of her release.  

He sheathed himself entirely and leaned forward to capture the last of her moans in his mouth, rocking his hips as her orgasm triggered his.  He slid from her at the last moment, without breaking the kiss, and spent himself on her belly while she swallowed his broken sob.

“My Adrien,” she sighed contentedly, stroking his back as he shook with the aftershocks.  


	33. Lady Noir, Weird Texts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SeasonoftheGeek asked: _Dearest Tumblr wife, could I please request 152: “Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night.” with Ladynoir?_ <3  
> AND I am super behind on Fluffgust, so I wrote this post-reveal LadyNoir fluff to include both 4AM and Plushies. Enjoy!

Ladybug yawned, and snuggled closer to her partner. “You have got to stop texting me weird stuff so late at night, _Chaton_.”

“Hey, this time I waited until I got up in the morning,” he replied, nudging her with his elbow and looking affronted.  

She lifted her head from his shoulder to stare at him incredulously.  “Chat, it was four o’clock in the morning!”

“Oh.”  He had the grace to look sheepish.  “Sorry.  Sunrise photoshoot.”

“Ugh.”  She dropped her head back to his shoulder with a grimace. “Tell your dad that _he_ can do the next sunrise shoot.  You need the sleep and so do I.”

“Ha!  I don’t think that would go over too well.”  He scoffed at the idea of having that conversation with his dad, then remembered what had started this conversation to begin with and jostled her with his shoulder.  “It was funny though, right?”

She scrunched her face in confusion.  “What, the photoshoot?”

“No no, the _text_.”

“Oh.  That.”

“Hilarious, right?”

She lifted her head to look at him again, this time with a scowl.  “The picture of an anthropomorphic black cat dressed as Ladybug?” She asked flatly.  At his nod, she raised a brow.  “Mildly amusing?  Yes. Worth waking me at 4 am on my day off? No.”

He winced.  “Were you at least able to go back to sleep?”

“No.  But since I couldn’t sleep, I decided to get up and make this for you.”  She fumbled behind them for a moment, pulled a small plush toy from her bag, and pushed into his hands with a smile.

“You—you made this? For me?”  It was made like an old fashioned teddy bear, hinged at the shoulders and hips to be positionable, but instead of a bear, it was a black cat dressed in a red-spotted suit.  “It’s incredible!”

She pinkened, and then smirked.  “I’m glad you like it.  But, maybe don’t text me until _actual_ morning next time.  I can’t promise to be so benevolent, if you wake me up that early for anything other than an emergency.”

He hugged the plush to his chest, smiling happily.  “Deal.”


	34. Blanket Fort (post-reveal Adrienette)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Month Day 6: Blanket Fort AND two Anon requests for "First one to make a noise loses".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really love combining these things, can you tell? :)

“So this is a blanket fort, huh?”

Marinette smiled at Adrien’s carefully neutral expression, and nodded.  “Yup, this is a blanket fort.  And one of my better ones, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

He continued to examine their construction, his head now tilted in consideration.  “What makes it so good?”

“Well, your bed makes up one side of it, and the back of your couch makes up the other.  It’s an excellent structural foundation, and the blanket is well weighted on both sides.  There’re plenty of blankets and pillows in there to make it comfy cozy, we both have room to sit up or lay down, and we won’t have to worry about it falling on our heads.  It’s pretty much perfect.”

“So that’s why you insisted on moving the couch and pulling out all of my extra bedding.”  Adrien looked up at her with excitement shining in his eyes.  “Is it really worth it?”

Marinette grinned, and gestured to their fort.  “You tell me.”

He grinned back, finally letting his exuberance show, grabbed up their bowl of popcorn, and gestured to the fort with a bow.  “Your castle awaits, My Lady.”

“Why thank you, kitty. Can you hit the lights?”  He nodded, and she ducked under the edge of the blanket to settle herself among the bedding they’d piled up at the foot of his bed.  The laptop was already under there, so she queued up their chosen movie as Adrien cut off the lights and crawled in to nestle beside her.  “The Ring, right?”

“Yeah.”  She squirmed, and he lifted his arm so that she could tuck herself against him.  When she was done, he dropped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a gentle squeeze.  “Comfy?”  He asked.

“Very.  This has got to be the cushiest blanket fort ever. Why do you even have all this bedding?”

“I’m an _Agreste_ ,” he reminded her sardonically.  

“Oh, right,” she replied, rolling her eyes.  “Ready for this?”  

He gave her a smile that was all Chat Noir.  “Of course. Are you sure _you’re_ ready?”

“Of course!  I’m telling you, scary movies don’t really bother me.  I know this one is supposed to be intense, but…”  She trailed off with a shrug, and eyed him challengingly.  “It’s okay to be afraid, even if I’m not.  You know you can hold on to me if you need to.”

“Haha,” he deadpanned. “Ok, how about this.  The first one to make a noise, loses.”

Marinette raised her brows, intrigued.  “Loses? Like, a bet?”

“Exactly like a bet.”

“Alright, ‘fraidey cat, you’re on.  What will I get when you lose?”

He scoffed in reply, feigning insult.  “On the _incredibly slim chance_ that I lose, you have to…uh, take me out.  On a _date_ ,” he added, leaning forward and waggling his brows at her.

Marinette flushed pink, and she giggled at his theatrics. “Oh yeah?”  She asked, poking him in the chest.  “Well, if by some miracle I lose, then _you_ have to take _me_ out on a date!”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

“Oh, for the love of camembert!”  Plagg phased through the blanket to glare at them, and was met with two surprised stares.  “Would you two just agree to go out already, and start the movie?!”

They shared a look, both of them blushing hotly, and then collapsed together in a pile of giggles.

“Ugh, you guys are the worst at this.”

They only laughed harder.


	35. MariChat, Blush

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Month, Day 1: Blush, and " _For the prompt thing what did you just say with marichat please?_ "

“What did you just say?”

Marinette clamped her hands over her mouth, but it was too late to call the words back.  “N-nothing,” she mumbled through her fingers.

Chat Noir grinned in delight.  “Princess, did you just _pun_?”

Marinette set her jaw stubbornly and crossed her arms over her chest, opting to brazen it out.  “No, of course not!”

“You did!  I heard you!  You punned!”  He wrapped his arms around her and lifted her from the floor to swing her about in a joyous circle.  

She gripped his shoulders in surprise, laughing in spite of herself as he swung her around, and around again. “Put me down, you ridiculous cat,” she gasped.  “You’re making me dizzy!”

“But you _punned_ ,” he protested, but he slowed and let her slide to the ground anyway, keeping his hands at her waist to steady her.  

Their eyes caught and widened as she slid to the floor, both becoming aware of their intimate position at the same time: her arms around his neck, his hands at her waist, and their bodies pressed close together.  They stayed in a frozen tableau for several long moments, until Marinette’s phone began to buzz, breaking the silence, and the gentle words of [Soft Kitty](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pm-gFXdmqik) filled the room.  

They leapt apart, both of them blushing furiously.   Marinette scooped her phone up from her desk, grateful for the distraction, and ignored his smirk at her ringtone as she swiped at the screen to answer the call.


	36. Elation, Adrienette

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluff Month Day 13: Elation, and "Can you make I lost the baby for Adrinette? Please, I love your writing!!" I know that was an angst prompt, but I couldn’t write that one angsty. So, have this fluff-splosion instead!

“Hey, uh, Marinette?  I think I lost the baby.”

Marinette blinked, frowning.  “You…lost her?”

“Ye-ah.”  Adrien shifted from foot to foot anxiously as Marinette hung her coat on a hook, and set her bag on the hall table.  “I mean, she was right there, all day long.  She kept following me around.  And then she disappeared, and I can’t find her _anywhere_.”

“Did you leave a window open?”  Marinette asked, toeing off her shoes.

He frowned.  “I didn’t open any windows at all.”

“Did you leave the front door open at some point?”  She crossed to the sofa and sank into the plush cushions with a sigh.

“No, I haven’t opened that, either.”

“Then she’s around here somewhere.”  Marinette shrugged, unconcerned, and tipped her head back into the cushion behind her.  “She’ll come out when she’s ready.”

His frown deepened.  “But Mari, she’s just a baby!”

She laughed, and tugged him down to sit beside her.  “Yes, love, I know.  But she’s a baby _cat_ , and as such, is perfectly capable of managing on her own for a while.  She probably just found a cozy place to sleep for a while.”

“But—”

“Besides,” Marinette continued, silencing him with a brief kiss on his lips.  “She has Plagg looking out for her.  He might be a grump, but he’s not going to let anything happen to her.”

“I suppose you’re right.”  Adrien slumped into the couch, pouting.  “It’s just that I’ve never really had a pet before.  I don’t want to mess up.”

“I know, _minou_.”  She kissed him again, this time letting her lips linger on his, drifting back and forth languorously. 

“Mmm.  Hello, my lady,” he murmured against her mouth, hooking a hand behind her far knee and pulling her over to straddle his lap.

She smiled against his lips.  “Hello, mon minou,” she murmured back. 

She’d just swept her tongue into his mouth when she felt the prick of tiny claws in her leg, catching in the fabric of her leggings.  She broke the kiss on a giggle, scooped up the little ball of fluff before she could do any real damage, and presented her to Adrien.  “See?  She’s just fine.” 

“Luna!”  Adrien’s eyes lit, and he cuddled the little cat to his chest.   “You naughty girl, where have you been?  You worried your papa sick!” 

Marinette giggled again.  “Oh Adrien, you’re ridiculous.  If you worry like that over our kitten, how are you going to survive worrying over our baby?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he said, nuzzling the cat.  “I’m sure I’ll figure—” He stopped abruptly, and snapped his head up to meet her eyes.  “Wait, what?”

She smiled joyously, and nodded to encourage his obvious train of thought.

“So, you’re—you mean, we’re—a-a _baby_?”

“I went to the doctor this afternoon to confirm it.  You’re going to be a _real_ Papa.”


	37. LadyNoir, Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miraculous Fluff Month Day 14: Telling the Truth and "I was hoping you could write Ladynoir, romance, 30. What it's like?"

“Do you know what it’s like, my lady, to be in love with someone?” Chat Noir stepped in close to his partner, and cupped her jaw in his hands.

Ladybug met his intense green eyes with luminous blue, and her lip trembled. “Chat…” she began, but trailed off into silence.

He stroked her jaw with his thumb, and she shivered. “Do you know what it’s like, to see that person every day, to feel yourself falling a little deeper every day, and to be summarily rejected, every day?”

Her eyes slid closed, and a tear slipped down her cheek. He brushed it away.

“No,” she finally answered, her voice small. Then her eyes opened, and fixed on his once more. “No, to your second question. Yes to the first.”

He felt her words as a blow, and he held himself very still while he absorbed them. His eyes tightened, but he gave no other outward indication. “Oh?”

“Do you know what it’s like, to be in love with someone, to see them every day, to fall a little harder every day, only to learn that he is far more to you than you ever imagined?”

He shook his head in confusion, and she tilted her head into his hand, rubbing her cheek gently over the supple material covering his palm. 

“Do you know what it’s like,” she whispered, “to discover that the one you love is the one you’ve been pushing away?”

His eyes widened, and his heart began to thump with nascent hope. “My lady?”

“The truth is that I’ve loved you all along.” His breath caught at her quiet admission, and she took a tentative step closer, closing the space between them. “It just took me a while to see, and to understand what was right in front of me. Now that I do see…” Her eyes roamed over his face, and she touched her fingers to his mouth, tracing the bow shape of his lower lip wonderingly. “Now that I see, I can’t imagine how I missed it.”

He caught her wrist in a gentle grip, and her fingers curled around his as he recaptured her gaze. “What more are you trying to say?”

“I know who you are, Adrien,” she whispered. “All of you. And…I want you to know all of me.”


	38. Goodnight Kisses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miraculous Fluff Month Day 2: Goodnight Kisses and 'I'd love some Adrienette fluff...“That was barely even a kiss! Do it again - please?”'

“That was barely even a kiss!”

Adrien shifted uncomfortably, and glanced through the window again.  “I know, but…Marinette, your parents are _right there_.”

Her eyes widened and she spun to look through the window of the bakery.  Sure enough, there were her parents, watching them shamelessly with big dopey smiles on their faces.  Her mom even had the audacity to _wave_ at them.  Marinette felt her face heat, and she turned back to Adrien with a pained smile.  “I’m sorry, I know they’re awful.”

Adrien chuckled, and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.  “They’re not awful, Mari.  It’s obvious that they love you.”

“Well, sometimes, I wish they’d be a little less obvious about it,” she huffed, pouting.  “Here, come around the corner with me!”  She grabbed his hand and tugged him after her, to the side door.

“Mari, wait!”  He said, laughing.  “What are you—”

She pulled him inside and turned to face him again, with a blush on her cheeks and a coy smile curling her lips.  “Do it again, please?  I’ve been looking forward to our goodnight kiss, all night long.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Adrien replied, flushing at her words.  He pulled her closer with a hand at her hip and a knowing smirk on his face, as he lowered his mouth to hers.  “Maybe next time we should skip the date and just go make out somewhere,” he whispered against her mouth.

She kissed him back, lingering but not daring to deepen the kiss.  She did have class in the morning, even if he did not. “Mmm, that sounds wonderful, actually.  Movie night?”

“Yeah.”  He kissed her again, and nipped gently at her lower lip.  “See you tomorrow after your class?”

“Of course.”  She paused to kiss him again, lingering a bit longer this time.  “Good night, Chaton.”

He chuckled.  “Are you kicking me out?”

“Maybe a little.  I do have to finish that project proposal.”

“Oh, well in that case…”  He took her hand and bowed over it, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.  “Good night, my Lady.”

She giggled, and tugged her hand away.  “Get out of here, you silly cat.”

“All right, all right.  I’m going.”  He pressed one last, chaste kiss to her lips.  “Until tomorrow, my Lady.”

She smiled dreamily.  “Until tomorrow, _Chaton_.”

 

 

 


	39. Adrienette, "I fucked up"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anonymous: "I fucked up" Adrinette post- reveal?

"Well, hello my Lady.  I wasn't expecting a call from you this--"

“Adrien, I fucked up.”

Adrien's brows rose in surprise.  Marinette didn't often curse like that, and he couldn't imagine what she could have done to prompt an announcement like that.  "You...huh?"

"Ye-ah."  He heard her shifting on the other end of the line, and knew from experience the anxious expression she likely wore.  "Maman and Papa have been...nosy.  They kept asking me about you, and why we're spending so much time together if we aren't dating, and I, ah, I panicked."

Adrien blanched.  Marinette in a panic tended to just blurt things out when she was flustered.   _Shit_.  "You told them who we are?"  He asked, carefully neutral.

" _What_?!"  She shrieked, her tone indigant.  "No, of course not."

"Oh.  Well, that's good," Adrien said slowly, confused now.  He moved his phone to the other ear.  "So what did you--"

"Ah--haha, well, that's--I might have--oh, God, this is embarrassing," she moaned, and there was a fumbling sound as she probably put her free hand over her face.  "Stupid mouth," she mumbled, her voice sounding muffled.  She must have put her hand over her mouth, then.

He sat down at his desk, and reclined back, wishing that he could do something to comfort her.  "Marinette, it can't be that bad.  So long as they don't know about, _you know_ , then it's fine."

"Ugh," she groaned, her voice no longer muffled.  "Ok.  I, um, I-told-them-that-you're-my-boyfriend!" 

It took him a moment to make sense of her rushed speech, and even then, he wasn't sure he'd heard her right.  "Wait, what?"

"They kept pushing!  Saying we were acting like a couple and that we should just own up to it already, unless there was another reason for us to be so close, and I panicked and told them that we actually _are_ dating just to get them to stop thinking about it and my dad groaned and my mom got this big smile and said 'pay up', which I don't even want to know what _that's_ about, and now they think we're together and I don't know what to do!"

He blinked.  "Oh.  Well that's--that's not so bad."

"It's not?"  Marinette asked hopefully.  "But...if we tell them the truth now, they're going to want to know why I lied in the first place and--"

"What if it wasn't a lie," he blurted, and felt himself blush at her sudden silence.  He rubbed his palm over the back of his head and did a bit of mental scrambling.  "I mean, I've never exactly made a secret of my feelings for you, my Lady.   Would it really be so bad if we were dating?  I mean, we could at least try, and then what you told your parents wouldn't be a lie."

She was quiet for so long that Adrien worried that he'd made a huge mistake, and started trying to work out how he could back-pedal.  "You--you want to date me?"  She finally asked, her voice small.  He sighed in relief.  At least she didn't sound upset, or repulsed.

"Well, I--"  He cut himself off, and blew out a breath.  In for a penny, in for a pound.  "Yeah, yeah I would."

"Oh.  That's...wow. That's not how I expected this conversation to go."

"Is-is that okay?"

"Yes!"  She said emphatically, before clearing her throat and continuing in a more normal tone.  "Ah, I mean, yes.  I um, I'd like to date you, too, so--yeah.  It's very okay."

"Okay," he repeated, a huge smile splitting his face.  "So.  We're dating now."

She giggled.  "Yeah, I guess we are."

His smile only widened.

 


	40. Low Key Wedding (ChloNath)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of chapter 13, [Sometimes](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11065350/chapters/24801198), as requested by Nonny on Tumblr: _Do we get to see the chlonath wedding?_ Also, I now have a ChloNath collection! If you want to read them all at once and in order, go here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/11888667/chapters/26851539

"You know, I never would have pegged Chloe as the kind of girl who would want a small wedding," Marinette said, looking around the small sea-side gazebo, and the yellow and white flowers that decorated it.  

Adrien shot his wife a sidelong glance, and smiled. "No?"

Alya shook her head.  "Me either.  I'd have bet money that she'd want to go as over-the-top as possible, complete with a media circus to document Her Day for the masses."

"I didn't see it coming either, but Nath did," Nino added, nodding to where Nathanael stood, chatting with the woman who would be officiating their small ceremony. "He said that she hates big weddings."

Adrien laughed.  "I wasn't surprised either. Fifteen-year-old Chlo might've gone for the whole shebang, but Nath has grounded her somewhat.  She doesn't want their relationship in the public eye."

Marinette nodded thoughtfully, her brows raised.  "I definitely get that."

Adrien winced, remembering the horde of reporters that had been lurking outside the church after his own wedding.  He stifled the apology that sprang to his lips, and thought again of his oldest friend.  "She probably wants to lord it over all of us that her wedding was the easiest and least demanding of any of ours.  I'm not sure I'd say that she _hates_ weddings, but she was definitely pretty vocal at our weddings, about the hoopla being a waste of time."

The others all laughed in agreement.  

"That's putting it mildly," Alya said wryly.  "I figured she only hated it because she wasn't the center of attention, and now I feel a little guilty for thinking it."

Adrien laughed again.   "Don't feel too guilty, because I'm sure that was a part of it.  Chloe hasn't changed _that_ much.  But yeah, there was definitely more to it than that."

* * *

 

Chloe smoothed the skirt of her pale yellow dress in an uncharacteristically nervous manner, as she surveyed herself in the mirror, though it wasn't her reflection that worried her.

She looked good, and she knew it.  Her dress was a Dupain-Cheng original, so of course it was gorgeous.  Chloe had chosen to buck tradition and expectations all over the place when it came to her wedding, and her dress was no exception.  It was a beach wedding, so in lieu of the traditional long white gown, she'd elected to go with a narrow tea-length gown in soft, buttery yellow.  Marinette had made it herself from a supple silk charmeuse that hugged her lithe body flawlessly.  The sleeveless bodice was a deceptively simple cross-over, with narrow straps that sat wide on her shoulders.  Marinette had even stitched delicate crystal beads in the same yellow as the dress in a subtle floral pattern that was densest at the top and gradually dissipated toward the bottom, making the dress sparkle when she moved.  She had crystals of the same color woven into her hair, which had been swept up into an artfully messy bun, and made into the jewelry that she wore at her ears, throat, and wrist.  Her makeup was subtle, emphasizing her natural beauty, and she wore sandals that had been tastefully embellished with more of the yellow crystals.

Overall, her look was understated and elegant, and flawlessly tailored to her.  

She looked _perfect_.

She fingered the ring he'd given her, and sighed.  Normally, that perfection would have bolstered her confidence to the point of invincibility--but not today.  Today, she was going to meet Nath in that pretty little gazebo, and promise to love him forever.  And she would love him forever, she knew that she would.  But...what if he suddenly realized that she wasn't perfect after all?  What if he finally came to his senses, and realized that he could never manage to put up with her, 'forever and ever amen'?   What if--

"Chlo?  Are you--oh, _wow_."

"Nath?!  What are you doing in here?"  She hissed at her fiancee as he slipped into the room with an expression of wonder.  "You're not supposed to be in here!"

He blinked, and shrugged sheepishly.   "I know, but Adrien thought it might be a good idea for me to come and check on you."

"Hmph."  She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her nose into the air petulantly, facing away from him.  "I'm fine, Kurtzberg.  You ruined my First Look photos for nothing."

"No, I didn't.  I promise you, I will be just as amazed when I see you again ten minutes from now as I am now."  He pressed his lips to her bare shoulder, and then breathed in her scent.  "I'm amazed anew every day, to know that you're mine."

"Flattery will get you everywhere with me," she sighed and tilted her head to the side, allowing him easier access as he kissed her neck.  "You're cheating."

He chuckled, and turned her around to face him.  "No I'm not.  I'm only telling you the truth."  He kissed her gently, lingering only a moment before pulling back to smile down into her face.  "I love you, Chloe Bourgeois."

She smiled back, her gaze soft as she brushed a loose lock of his red hair out of his eyes.  "I love you, too, Nath."  

"I'll see you out there," he whispered, slipping out of the room and taking all of her anxiety with him.

She turned back to the mirror with the smile still on her face.  


	41. Adrienette at the Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this anonymous request: _Pre-reveal Adrinette goes to the beach with their friends?_ and Fluff Month day 26, Umbrella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am definitely writing from experience here, lol. If I go to the beach, I will bathe in sunscreen and _still_ spend as much time as possible in the shade. ~~No, I'm not a ghost, why do you ask?~~

Marinette lounged on her towel, enjoying the shade of her umbrella as she watched her friends play in the surf. She'd been out there with them until just a little while ago, but the sun had grown uncomfortably hot. Even with high-SPF sunscreen on, she was worried that her fair skin would burn and had retreated to the shaded safety of her large beach umbrella.

Alya and Nino had no such concerns. Their bronze and mocha complexions only deepened beneath the suns rays, and with sunscreen, they didn't burn at all. Adrien, though, was almost as fair-skinned as she was, and she was worried that he'd burn as badly as she would. She'd opened her mouth to invite him back to sit with her, realized at the last moment how very forward that would have sounded, and had simply told them where she was going before running off with a blush.

Now, she was kicking herself for her cowardice. Rather than sitting there alone, she might have been sitting there with Adrien to keep her company--where he'd be safe from the threat of the sun.

With a sigh, she rummaged around in her bag for her book, and settled down to read.

She'd only gotten through a few pages when a drop of water landed on her book, and a few more on her arm.  She looked up in surprise to see a pinkened Adrien standing above her with a towel in his hands.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Marinette."  He lifted the towel apologetically.  "I didn't mean to drip on you when I was reaching for this."

"It's alright!  It's only water."  

He smiled.  "Do you mind of I sit with you?  I need to get out of the sun for a bit."

"Oh, of course!"  Blushing, Marinette scooted herself over and patted the towel.  "I'm glad to finally be able to return the favor."

He sat where she'd indicated, and shot her a quizzical look.  "Favor?"  

"Sharing my umbrella.  Do you remember giving me yours back in collège?"

"Oh!  I do, now that you mention it."  His smile widened.  "I had forgotten, until just now.  I'm surprised you remember."

Marinette felt herself blushing again, and hoped he didn't notice.  "It was just, really sweet," she replied, shrugging a little helplessly.  "I still have your umbrella, actually.  I've been meaning to give it back to you ever since."

"Do you really?" he asked, laughing.  "That was two years ago!"

"So?"  She playfully bumped his shoulder with hers, and marveled a bit that this was actually happening.  "I know you still have that lucky charm that I gave you."

He scoffed, and bumped her back.  "That's different.  The good luck charm is special."

"Silly boy," she said, thrilled at his words and hoping her joy wasn't too obvious. "So is the umbrella."

 

 


	42. Adrienette, Is that my shirt?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do 57 "Is that my shirt?" with Adriennette please?
> 
> This is also my response to the Fluff Month prompt for Day 10, Secret Sleepover. Enjoy!!

“Is that my shirt?”

Adrien spun around guiltily, and tugged at the bottom hem of his stolen shirt.  “Uh—maybe?”

“It’s ok, Adrien,” she giggled, balancing her tray of snacks as she came up the stairs into her room. “I don’t mind.”

He looked down at the bright red Ladybug symbol blazoned over the front of the black shirt, and then back up at her face.  “Are you sure?  I should have asked.”

“I’m sure,” she said firmly, setting the tray on her desk.  “It’s pretty much an unwritten rule that you have to raid your friend’s closet at sleepovers, anyway.”  

He arched a brow, clearly skeptical.  “Not at any sleepover I’ve ever been to.”

“Clearly, you’ve never been to a sleepover with a girl before,” she quipped, bending to her computer to bring up their chosen movie.

He scoffed.  “I’m not even supposed to be at a sleep over with a girl _now_.”

“That’s why this is a _secret_ sleepover.”   She shot him a wink over her shoulder, then paused to finish at her computer before turning back to him completely.  “Anyway, the shirt was just a freebie from the radio station booth at that Heroes festival a few weeks ago, and it’s really too big for me.”  She grabbed her soda and the popcorn, and sat at the end of her chaise, eyeing him appraisingly.  “Honestly, you should just keep it, since it fits you so well.”

His eyes widened, and he ran his hands over the soft cotton again.  “Really?”

“Absolutely,” she insisted. “Now, grab your drink, and come snuggle with me?”

He grinned boyishly, moved his drink closer to the end of her desk, and sat on the chaise behind her so that she could scoot back and lean against him.  “Do all sleepovers also include movies and snuggles with pretty girls?”

Marinette ducked her head, blushing.  “You keep talking like that, Adrien Agreste, and you’re going to make me think you want me to be more than your cuddle buddy.”

A faint blush spread over his cheeks, and a charmingly lopsided smile split his face.  “Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I’ve been trying to make you think that since we started Lycee.”


	43. Adrienette, Make Me/Gaming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you do 162 "Make me." on your list with Adriennette?
> 
> This is also my response to the Fluff Month prompt for Day 18, Gaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m not sure if this was what my anon ask-er had in mind-–it might have been one of the sin prompts, but I can’t remember. So, have some aged-up fluffy banter. I hope you like it, Nonny!!!

“Oh, good!  You’re here!  Now I can trounce you in UMS4 again.”

Adrien laughed, carefully lowering her trap door.  “Come on, Mari, don’t pull your punches.  Tell me how it really is,” he deadpanned, and she grinned unrepentantly.  

“I can’t help it if I’m better than you, when it comes to Mecha Strike.”

“Uh huh.”  He rolled his eyes.  “What if we play something else, where we’d have a more equal playing field?”

Marinette tilted her head thoughtfully, tapping her finger on the shoulder pad of her controller.  “What about the new _Uncharted_ game?   The last one was pretty good.”

His eyes lit, and he nodded excitedly.  “Do you have it?”

She stood to fetch it out of her school bag, and brandished it with a smirk.  “Max had it pre-ordered, and has already beaten it.  He brought it to me at school this morning.”

“Of course Max has already beaten it.”  Adrien plopped down in her desk chair, controller in hand.  “It’s been a while since we’ve played a co-op like this.”

“Not since the Mecha Strike update dropped,” she said as she popped the disk into the console.  “And that was a few months ago, right?”

She crossed back to the chaise to start the game, and he nodded.  “We really should branch out more.  As much as I love that game, it’s nice to play something where I’m not constantly having my ass handed to me.”

“Huh.”  Marinette cocked her head, feigning confusion.  “That’s never happened to me, so I don’t actually know what that’s like.”

“ _Tsss_ ,” he hissed, wincing.  “Ouch.  You do know that I’m actually really good at video games, right?”

“I do,” she replied earnestly.  Then she went on with a smirk, “you just aren’t good enough to beat _me_.”

He stared back at her flatly, though amusement sparked in his eyes.  “You know, sometimes I really miss the days when you couldn’t string together a complete thought in my presence, much less express them as words.”

“Arrgghh!   _Adrien_!” She grabbed the pillow from her chaise and lobbed it at his head, laughing.  “You’re fighting dirty!”

He snatched the pillow out of the air with a grin.  “Just stop talking smack and start the game.”

She crossed her arms stubbornly over her chest, smirking once more.  “Make me,” she taunted.

His brows rose, and after a moment’s thought, he rolled the desk chair closer to her chaise.

“What are you doing?” She asked, frowning.

He leaned in close enough to count the freckles dusted over her nose.   “I’m making you,” he said simply.  Then he leaned in the rest of the way to capture her lips with his own.


	44. My Lady Godiva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chat drops in to say hello and gets an eyeful. (adult MariChat)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I guess I've been out of commission for a while, huh? Consider this drabble a thank you to everyone who sent suggestions to help me get my mojo back!

Marinette let herself into her new apartment with a happy sigh.  It had been a long day, and an even longer week.  On top of moving in to her new apartment, she’d been working like a mad woman to put the finishing touches on the new fall line in time for it to debut on schedule.  Marinette ached from head to toe: tension had tightened the muscles in her neck and shoulders, her back ached from lifting and moving boxes in the evenings, and she was fairly certain that her sinfully cute new shoes had rubbed blisters on her feet. 

But, the work was done, the week was over, and she was a free woman until Monday morning.  Her first order of business?  _A shower_.  A nice, long, _hot_ shower to soothe her tense, tired muscles was just what the doctor ordered.   

A short while later, Marinette shut off the taps and reached blindly for the towel hanging just outside the shower so that she could dry off there.  Her fingers found the fluffy towel easily.  It was so soft, and she sighed contentedly as she rubbed it over her body, removing the water from her shower.  When she was done, she wrapped her towel snugly around her body and stepped from the shower to find that the mirror had, predictably, fogged over with the steam from her shower.  With a shrug, she grabbed her brush from the counter and left the bathroom to brush her hair in front of the mirror in her bedroom.

She released her long hair from its coil atop her head as she walked, shaking it out a bit to help it unwind.  Once free, it fell in a rippling blue-black curtain almost to her waist.  It was a pain to maintain, but she loved it too much to cut it off.  She perched at the edge of her bed, directly across from the large mirror mounted above her dresser, and divided her hair into two sections; pulling it forward over her shoulders made the task much more manageable as it was far too long and thick to brush it all at once from the back.

She’d just begun to brush the second section when a sound from the balcony had her turning in place to see what it was, thinking that perhaps her neighbor’s cat had leapt the wall to her side and knocked one of her plants over again.

It was a cat alright—but certainly not her neighbor’s.  Chat Noir stood frozen just inside the door, his acid green eyes blown wide and his cheeks red beneath the mask. 

“Chat!”  Without thinking, Marinette leapt to her feet—and completely lost her towel.

 

* * *

 

Chat Noir was pretty sure that he had just swallowed his tongue.

He’d come to say hello, and congratulate her on finally getting her own place.  He’d been there as Adrien already; he’d even helped her to move in some of the heavier things earlier in the week, along with Nino and Alya.  But, Chat Noir had yet to stop by and he’d thought that a mild Friday even was just the time to do it.  Her balcony door was open, and since that had been her “come on in” signal when she lived above the bakery, he pushed the light curtains aside and walked in.  Unfortunately, he seemed to have missed a memo somewhere along the way, because Marinette clearly was not dressed to receive company.

Marinette was not dressed at all.

From her profile, he could see that she wore nothing but a towel as she sat on her bed, brushing her hair in front of the mirror.  The towel rode low on her breasts, only just covering her areolas and looking as if it might fall at any moment.  At the bottom, the towel reached only far enough to obscure the juncture of her thighs, leaving her long legs completely bare. 

Yup, he must have swallowed his tongue, because now he was choking on it. 

She heard him and turned to look, accidentally loosening her towel further with the movement.  It was immediately obvious that she’d had no idea what she’d heard; her eyes widened comically, and a deep flush bloomed over her cheekbones.

“Chat!” she exclaimed, rising to her feet in surprise.  The abrupt movement was enough to dislodge the towel entirely.  With a gasp, she moved to catch it but was only just too slow.  Chat Noir watched with horrified fascination and it slid in slow motion from her body, revealing first her pert breasts, then her lean belly, rounded hips, and finally the neatly trimmed thatch of dark hair at the apex of her thighs to lie crumpled drunkenly at her hip, half on and half off of the bed.

She was left standing utterly naked before him, clad only in her hair.  Her hands, which had continued to move after failing to grasp the towel, had followed it down to shield her sex from his gaze, but it was too late.  He’d seen.  And now, with her hands placed strategically over the apex of her thighs, her arms had pressed her breasts together and caused her nipples to peek out through her hair.

Chat gulped.

As one, they looked up from the useless towel and their eyes met.  To his relief, he saw humor alongside the embarrassment in her eyes.  He grinned rakishly in response. “It would seem that I have caught you at an inopportune time, Princess.  Unless you were going for the Lady Godiva look on purpose?”

“Oh my god, Chat!”  She spluttered a laugh, and snatched up her towel. “Wait outside, you mangy tomcat, and let me get dressed!”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone who's up for a NSFW version from dirtycirce say aye!


	45. My Lady Godiva: Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ayes have it! It took longer than it should have (I’m still having some trouble writing fluidly) but here’s the follow-up to my last drabble, in which Chat Noir accidentally catches Marinette in her birthday suit. I'm not sure I'd call it sin, but they definitely shouldn't have this particular conversation in a church, if you know what I'm sayin'.

Marinette waited with the towel clutched to her chest until the balcony door had closed completely, his low laugh ringing in her ears, then lifted the damp fabric to her face and _screamed_. 

Chat Noir had seen her _naked_.  On _accident_.

Groaning, she tossed the towel across her bed, then went to her dresser and pulled out under things, a slouchy sweater, and a pair of buttery soft leggings. She donned them quickly, anxious to return to her unexpected guest and distract him from what had happened.

She’d never been more embarrassed in her life, and yet…  She hadn’t missed the way his eyes had traveled hungrily over her body, or the lick of heat that had coiled through her belly in response.  He’d liked what he saw, and she’d liked that he’d looked. 

Chat Noir was, after all, an incredibly attractive man.  His youthful good looks had matured into all hard angles and long lines, which were displayed to great advantage by his tight black suit.  Even more dangerous was the fact that while his innate goodness remained untarnished, his immature flirting had morphed over the years into devilish charm and Marinette was in no way immune to the effect of those combined traits. 

She’d fallen for him, and fallen hard, without realizing she had done so.  It had just hit her one day, all out of the blue, that her heart was no longer her own.  Chat Noir held it in a way that Adrien never had, and the depth of her feelings for Chat far eclipsed her old school crush. 

She sighed, wishing that he’d seen her naked because he wanted to, and not because he’d accidentally come into her room at a bad time.  Even more, she wished that he wanted _Marinette_ as much as he wanted Ladybug.  He’d made it clear that his feelings for his partner hadn’t waned, but she wanted him to fall for _her_ , the imperfect woman beneath the spots.  Until that happened, she was resolved to keep her feelings hidden and simply enjoy the warmth of his friendship.

Which, speaking of… she was now fully clothed, but had been wool-gathering for several minutes while he waited for her outside.  She shook herself, grabbed an elastic from her nightstand and went to join him on the balcony.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said, stepping outside.  “I opened everything when I got home because it’s been so lovely outside, and didn’t think to close the door when I got in the shower.” 

He closed his baton, which he’d been using to browse the internet, and smiled at her warmly.  “I’m sorry that I didn’t knock or otherwise announce myself.  I just assumed that the rules from your old place carried over to the new.”

“They did.  I just need to remember to follow them, myself.”  She sat in the patio chair next to his, pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, and secured it with the elastic.  “How did you know which balcony was mine, anyway?  I know I told you that I was moving in here, but you’ve not been here before.”

“Ah—” He stiffened, looking vaguely panicked.  “I, um, recognized your things from your balcony above the bakery.”

“What did you do,” she giggled, “climb all over the building until you found the right one?”

“Something like that,” he agreed dryly.  “I just wanted to see you, to congratulate you on the new place.”  He laughed then, and a blush stained his cheeks once more.  “I just didn’t expect to see quite so much of you.”

She hid her face in her hands with a groan.  “Oh god, don’t remind me!  I think I almost died of mortification in there.”

“You know,” he began hesitantly, and she peeked through her fingers in time to see him swallow thickly.  “I didn’t exactly mind.”

Her hands slid down until they covered only her mouth.  “No?”

His eyes skittered away; his blush deepened.  “You’re an incredibly beautiful woman, Marinette.  Surely you know that?”

She studied his tight, shy expression with wide eyes.  “I—really?”

His gaze returned to hers, incredulous. “Are you kidding?” 

“Um, no?”  Marinette lowered her hands to clutch them together in her lap, shifting uncomfortably under his scrutiny.  “I mean, I know that I’m not unattractive—”

“Marinette,” he interrupted with a low laugh, “I know you have a mirror in there.  You are beautiful.  Do you not see the way men look at you?  The way _women_ look at you?”

She shook her head mutely.

His expression softened, and he took her hands in his, rubbing the backs with his thumbs.  “It isn’t just that you’re lovely to look at, which you are.  But you have this, this _light_ that infuses everything you do.  You draw people in with it, and enchant them.  I can’t believe you don’t see it.”

Marinette’s heart thumped wildly in her chest, her eyes moving from his earnest expression to their joined hand, and back again.   She licked her suddenly dry lips.  “That’s…that’s how you see me?”’

“It is.”  The corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile, stretching his mouth in a way that had Marinette licking her lips.  “I think that’s how almost everyone sees you.”

“Oh,” she breathed.  “I didn’t—I didn’t know.”

“I never told you.”  He pulled one of his hands away to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, and delicately traced the shell of her ear with his claw-tipped finger.  Her eyes slipped closed, and she shivered. “Marinette?”

She opened her eyes to see that he had shifted closer, and his eyes were searching hers.  “Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you?” 

Her breath caught, and since she couldn’t have spoken a word right then to save her life, she nodded. 

His eyes darkened, and his hand, which had hovered uncertainly in the air after leaving her ear, slid along her jaw to her neck and curled into her hair.  They tipped forward together, their eyelids falling but not closing completely until the moment their lips met.  It was a gentle kiss, sweet and tentative and searching.  He broke it after only a few moments, and drew back to look at her.

“You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that,” he murmured, stroking her cheek with his thumb.

She blinked.  “Really?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Me, too,” she whispered. 

Their eyes held for an electric moment, then something between them seemed to snap.  They each surged forward, reaching with both hands and lips.  His hands pulled her into his lap, settling her knees to either side of his hips, as her fingers sank into his hair and her tongue probed the seam of his lips.  He opened to her on a groan, his fingertips digging into her ass, and their tongues tangled, sliding and pulling and curling together frantically as if they were trying to make up for lost time.

And they were, she supposed.  It was what she had wanted for years, and he had wanted it too?  But it felt off, somehow, to be doing this when he didn’t know the truth about who she was.  When she’d imagined it—and _boy_ had she imagined it—she’d never thought that it would happen like this, sudden and immediate and overwhelming.  It would be so easy to just let herself drown in it, and worry about the rest later, but she wanted to do this right. 

No misunderstandings, no guilt, no regret.

She tore her mouth away, gasping his name, but he continued his onslaught, kissing his way down her jaw to her neck. 

“I want you, Marinette,” he murmured into her throat, hardly ceasing his attentions even to speak.  “God, I want you.”

“And I want you, but—” 

“Fuck,” he groaned, recapturing her lips.

She yielded to the kiss only briefly before clenching her fists in his hair to tug him back.  “Chat, please!”

“I’m sorry!”  He drew back, panting, with a frown creasing his brows.  “ _Merde_ , I’m sorry.   This is—this is too much, too fast, isn’t it?”

“No!  It’s not that.  It’s just, there’s…”  She trailed off, nibbling nervously at her lower lip as she let her hands slide from the nape of his neck to rest on his chest.  This was a lot harder than she’d expected it to be.  Would he be angry with her?  Hurt, that she’ hadn’t trusted him with the knowledge?

His frown deepened, and he stroked his hands over her arms.  “Marinette, what is it?”

“There’s something I need to tell you, something that you need to know before we go any further.”

“That sounds…ominous.”  Despite his words, his look of concern had melted away and now he looked _very_ much like he was trying _very_ hard not to smile.  She tipped her head quizzically, and he seemed to make a greater effort to school his expression into seriousness.  “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’s fine.”

“I hope it will be,” she replied softly, and he raised his brows in expectation.  Then she blurted, “I’m Ladybug!”

“My lady?”  A slow smile spread over his features, and with his hands at her nape, he tugged her head to rest against his.  She nodded, buoyed by his initial reaction, and his smile widened to a grin.  “I know.”

She blinked, absorbing that, then straightened, her hands falling into her lap.  “Wait, you know?  As in, you already knew?”

He nodded, looking sheepish.  “I’ve known for a while.”

“How did you—wait!”  Was that why he was suddenly interested in her?  Because he found out that she was _Ladybug_?  The thought had her paling.  “Is this”—she gestured between them—“because you discovered me?”

His eyes widened in horror.  “No!  No, of course not!  I’ve known for almost two years, Marinette!”

“Two…two _years_?”  She gaped at him, stunned.  “And you never said anything?  How did you even find out?”

“I’d decided to pay you a visit one night after patrol, not realizing I’d already spent most of the evening with you.  I saw you land on top of the bakery, drop into your room, and release your transformation.”  He sighed, and raked a hand through his hair in agitation.  “Please believe me, I didn’t mean for it to happen.  When I saw you go to the bakery, my first thought was that you were going there to visit as well.  By the time I realized my mistake, it was too late.”

She stared at him, feeling strangely off-balance.  He’d known.  All this time, he’d already known who she was, and he’d still gone out of his way to spend time with her both in and out of the suit.  Even knowing who she was, he _still_ came to her house after patrols, spending hours on end in her company.  He _knew_ her, and still wanted her.  The knowledge filtered slowly through her mind, bringing with it a warmth that had nothing whatsoever to do with lust.

“Marinette?”  He ran his hands up and down her arms, drawing her focus back to the present.  “Please, say something.  I’m kind of freaking out, here.”

“I love you,” she whispered, feeling an odd relief to finally say it aloud.

He drew in a sharp breath.  “You—what?”

“I love you, Chat,” she said again, more strongly this time.  “I’m _in_ love with you.”

He held her gaze for another fraught moment, and then he was kissing her again, his hands in her hair as his lips moved reverently over hers.  “I love you,” he growled against her lips.  “I love you so fucking much!” 

Her hands clutched at his sides, her nails scraping over the suit as her fingers sought purchase, pulling herself tight against him.  His hands moved from her hair, and she felt his arms band around her back, yanking her closer still.  The kiss deepened, intensified, and her hips rolled unbidden against the ridge trapped beneath the suit. 

“Inside,” she gasped against his mouth, completely at a loss to express herself more cogently as she rolled her hips again. 

Apparently, it was enough.  He groaned in response, and moved his hands to grip her ass as he stood.  Her thighs clamped at his hips and her hands clasped his neck, refusing to stop kissing him even to move inside.  His hand fumbled at the door for a moment, but he must have gotten it because he was moving again, through the doorway and the curtain and across her room to her bed. 

He stopped when his thighs hit the mattress, and Marinette lowered her knees to the bed.  When they were under her and supporting her weight, she slid one hand down to grasp and pull the bell at his throat.  The opened zipper revealed an ever-widening triangle of skin to her questing fingers, and his hold on her loosened to allow for greater access.

She broke their kiss to look down at the expanse of exposed skin, and sighed in appreciation.  “Mon dieu, you are beautiful.”  His lean form was well defined without being overly muscular.  A dusting of crisp gold hair spanned his chest between flat nipples, and arrowed down towards his navel enticingly.  She gently scraped her nails over a pectoral muscle, drawing a surprised, shuddering moan from his mouth. 

“Do you want me to take it off?” he asked, his voice low and all but vibrating with tension.

Her eyes raked over him again, then met his.  “The-the suit?”

“And the mask,” he confirmed.  “All of it.”

 

* * *

 

 

Chat held his breath as he waited for her answer.  At this point, he felt reasonably confident that it would be affirmative, but there was always a chance—

Her lips parted, and she nodded.  “ _Yes_.”

Oh, thank God.  “Claws in, Plagg.”  The familiar green light washed up his body, leaving him maskless before her.  He felt nude without it, especially in the face of her wide, incredulous eyes.  He smiled sheepishly and held his arms out to the sides.  “Ta-da?”

“ _Adrien_?” 

“For the love of Camembert, kid, couldn’t you have done that sooner?” 

“Shut up, Plagg!”

“Ugh, that was gross.”  The kwami shuddered dramatically.  “I expect extra cheese for putting up with your weird mating behaviors.”

Marinette glanced at him, blushing, and waved her hand in the general direction of the kitchen.  “If you go and find Tikki, she can help you find what you need in the refrigerator.”

Plagg’s green eyes brightened, and he zipped through the closed door without another word to them, already bellowing for his counterpart.  Adrien shook his head, wondering whether it was the reunion he was so excited about, or the cheese.

Probably the cheese.

Adrien cleared his throat, and turned his attention back to the woman still kneeling on the bed in front of him.  She was studying him thoughtfully, though she was still blushing.

“I should have known it was you,” she murmured.

“Yeah?”

“It seems to obvious, now.”  She shook her head, smiling wryly.  “You were your own competition, did you know?”

He shook his head in consternation.  He was his own…competition?

“I had a thing for you, back in collége and lycée.”  She ducked her head with a blush and looked down at his throat, fiddling with a button on the collar of his white button-up.  “Kind of a big thing, actually.  Somewhere in my brain, 14-year-old-me is having an aneurysm right now.”

Adrien felt as if he’d been blind-sided.  “You’re…you’re kidding, right?”

“Nope,” she giggled.  “Otherwise, I’d have fallen for Chat Noir a lot sooner.”

Adrien turned and flopped onto the bed next to her, and stared at the ceiling as memory after memory assailed him.  Now, he saw each one in a new light, and so many things suddenly made sense.  “I am such an idiot.”

Marinette had pivoted on the bed when he’d fallen onto it; now, she giggled again and threw one leg over his body to straddle him.  “You and me, both, Chaton.”

At her touch, which felt far more comfortable than it should have so soon after their revelations, he felt himself relax.  What was done was done.  The only question that remained was how to move forward.

He settled his hands on her thighs and squeezed as he returned her smile.  “So, my lady, what do we do now?”

“Now?”  She leaned forward with a siren’s smile, her _Ladybug_ smile, draped her arms over his chest, and propped her chin on them.  “Now, I very much think that we should go back to kissing.  After all, you did offer to take ‘all of it’ off for me.”


	46. She Lies!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from spinzgirl on Tumblr: "New girl in school claims to be dating Chat Noir, and Adrien is curious as to why it seems to bother Marinette so much."
> 
> This went a bit sideways. I hope you like it anyway!

“Oh my god!  Alya!  For the last time, Amelie is **not** dating Chat Noir!”

“Alright, girl!  Simmer down.  Right now, I have it tagged as an unsubstantiated rumor.  If—”

“ **When** ,” Marinette interjected vehemently.

Alya rolled her eyes.  “—or when we get confirmation one way or the other, I will update the post and its tags.  Until then, it stands.”

“Fine.  But I’m telling you now, it’s not true.”  Marinette crossed her arms with a _humpf_ and slouched in her seat.  “What is it with new girls and lying, anyway?  First Lila, two years ago, and now Amelie.  It’s ridiculous.”

“Hey!”  Alya knocked the back of her hand against Marinette’s shoulder in mock indignation.  “It wasn’t so long ago that I was the new girl!”

“Did I say your name?  No, because apparently you were the last New Girl to have a decent moral compass.”

Adrien studied Marinette’s expression curiously.  She was right, of course, but why was she so sure?  How did she know?  And why did it seem to bother her so much?

“Dude, why are you freaking out over this?” Nino asked, echoing Adrien’s own thoughts.  “I thought you weren’t into the whole Ladynoir thing.”

Surprisingly, Marinette’s first reaction was to blush. 

A lot.

“I’m—I’m not!  I just hate it when people lie, and I hate it more when their lies involve other people.  What if Chat Noir did have a girlfriend, and these lies got back to her?”

“Valid, but only based on the assumption that the new girl is lying.”

“She **is** lying!”

Nino and Alya both groaned, but Adrien only tilted his head curiously.  “What makes you so sure?”

Her eyes widened, and darted to the side.  “I just am.”

Adrien accepted her answer and let it drop.

For the moment, anyway.

 

* * *

 

Chat Noir landed quietly on Marinette’s balcony and scratched at her skylight.  There was a thump, a surprisingly colorful curse, and then a few moments of quiet as she climbed to her loft bed.  When her face appeared beneath the window, her expression was unusually fierce.  Given that Fierce Marinette was every bit as intimidating as Fierce Ladybug, Chat began to reconsider the wisdom of his visit.

Unfortunately, it was a bit too late to back out now.  Fierce Marinette had opened her skylight, and was eying him with grim satisfaction.  “Chat Noir, I was hoping you’d come by.  Is there an akuma I should know about,” she asked, “or is this a social call?”

He gulped.  “Um, a social call?”

The corner of her mouth kicked up in a smirk, and she pushed her skylight all the way open.  “Good.  Come on in.”

“Uh, sure thing, Princess.”  Chat Noir slipped down into her room, taking care not to touch her bedding with his boots.  He wasn't there often, but she’d established boots-on-the-bed as a serious no-no the first time she’d invited him in.  _(“What are you, an alley cat?  Get your feet off of my bed!”_ )  He reached the floor without sullying her sheets, and turned to find her regarding him levelly.

“So, have you seen the latest ‘unsubstantiated rumor’ to crop up on the Ladyblog?”

Well, at least she wasn’t going to make him work for his answers.  “I did, yeah.”  He leaned against her ladder and spun his baton idly through his fingers, then quirked a nonchalant brow in her direction.  “Why?”

“Because, that ridiculous girl is in my class, and I have to hear her gushing about her ‘boyfriend’ every time she has an audience, when I know for a fact that you are not dating her.  It’s making me nuts.”

“How do you know it isn’t true?” he asked casually, still spinning his baton.

“Because it’s not!”  She snatched the baton from his fingers with a glower.  “Because she is absolutely **not** your type.  Because you’re in love with Ladybug.  And because you would have told—”  There she stopped, drew in a breath, and reined herself in.  “You would have told Ladybug, if you were dating someone.”

Chat Noir was no longer feigning disinterest.  He had seen the sheen of tears in her eyes, before she’d drawn back, and now his need for answers ran deeper than curiosity.  For whatever reason, she was deeply, emotionally invested in this, and he was itching to know the reason.  First, though, he needed to put her out of the misery he’d unintentionally put her in.

He straightened away from the ladder, and tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear, noting with interest the blush that bloomed on her cheeks.  “You’re right,” he said quietly.  “I’m not dating Amelie, or anyone else.”  A bit of the tension drained from her posture, and she nodded.

“Thank you.  I knew she was lying!” 

He crossed his arms over his chest, and regarded her intently.  “And how did you know that?”

She stiffened again, immediately on the defensive.  That, too, was interesting.

“I already told you, I know that you’re in love with Ladybug, and that you’d have told her if you’d started dating someone,” she repeated stubbornly.

“True, and probably true,” he responded, holding up a hand to stay her rebuttal when she opened her mouth to argue.  He actually had the upper hand this time, and he was **loving** it.  “But neither of those is the truth.”  His eyes narrowed as he considered her.  “You hate lies.  Why are you lying?”

Her eyes widened in panic.  “Uh, you know what?  I guess it’s really not that important that you shut her up after all.  Thanks for coming by and confirming that I was right, but it’s awfully late and I really ought to be getting to bed—”

“Marinette?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re rambling.”

“I—I am?”

“You only ramble when you’re nervous.”  When she started to argue, Chat took a step closer, and she stepped back with a surprised squeak.  “Why are you nervous?”  He stepped forward again, and she stepped back again, her eyes wary.  “I have this idea, and it would actually explain not only this little mystery, but a few others as well.”  She paled, and her eyes widened in fear.  Fear!  Of him!

Chat took a healthy step back, horrified to have brought that expression to her face.   “I—I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have pushed.  If you have a secret, it’s yours to keep.”  He took another step back, and put his hand on the ladder.  “Good night, Princess.”

She said nothing, but her wide eyes were still locked on his face.  He gave her a weak smile, and left.

His instincts were screaming at him to stay, to go back, that there was his lady, but he ignored them.  Whether he’d found Ladybug or not, he’d not pursue this.  She’d tell him when she was ready.

He hoped…


	47. She Lies! Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A short, sweet follow up to yesterday's drabble, in which Marinette gets all worked up over a classmate who claims to be dating Chat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The response to yesterday's drabble was overwhelmingly positive, and there was a general clamor for more. So, here you go! Hopefully, this is a better ending than the last one. :)

Marinette stopped her sewing machine curiously, and waited.

 _There._ The quiet tapping resumed, drawing her attention up to her skylight. 

He was back.

She shut her machine off entirely and climbed up to the loft, worrying her lower lip with her teeth as her mind raced.  She known that he’d be back, she just didn’t know when.  Now that he was here, she didn’t know what she’d say.  Apologize for freaking out?  For sticking her nose into his business?  For lying to him?

She released her now-tender lip with a sigh, and peered up into glowing green eyes.  He waved, his hand inky black against the dark sky, and she waved him in.  His eyes crinkled with a smile she couldn’t see.  She didn’t wait for him; she knew he’d follow her down, so she climbed down from the loft as he lifted the door and dropped through into her room.

“Hello, Princess,” he said, perched on the side of her bed with his legs hanging over the side.  He was smiling, but she could tell that it was forced.  “I wasn’t sure you’d even let me in.”

He wasn’t sure of his welcome here, she realized.  “Of course I let you in.  You’re always welcome here.”

He relaxed a bit, but he still looked uncertain.  “Even after…last time?”

She sank onto her chaise with a sigh, and shook her head.  “What happened last time—that was my fault.  I should never have been so nosy about your personal life, and I should not have lied to you.  I’m sorry.”

In response, he leapt lightly down from her bed, caught the back of her desk chair, and wheeled it over so that it was right in front of her.  He sat, and tilted her chin up with a crooked finger.  “I do accept your apology, but it wasn’t all you.  I baited you, and then I pushed you to give answers you didn’t want to give.  I’m sorry, Marinette.”

Marinette summoned a small smile.  “It’s alright, Chat.”  His hand fell from her chin, and his smile turned more genuine.  She cleared her throat.  “Amelie came clean, a few days ago.”

“Did she, now?”  Chat sat back in the chair, and examined the claws on one hand.  “That’s good.”

“Mm-hmm.  Actually, she confessed to the whole class.  It was quite a turn-around.”  Marinette crossed her arms, and attempted to appear stern.  “You didn’t happen to talk to her about all of this, did you?”

He shifted his attention to his other hand.  “I might have taken her aside, and asked her to kindly set the record straight.”  He met her gaze then, and grinned unrepentantly.  “After all, I can’t have my lady thinking me some kind of tomcat with an unfaithful heart.”

Marinette chuckled, and hoped that he wouldn’t notice her blush.  “I doubt very seriously that she ever thought anything of the sort, _Chaton_.”

Unfortunately for Marinette, he did see the blush— _and_ he caught her accidental use of Ladybug’s nickname for him. 

Marinette was Ladybug.

Chat tucked the revelation away for the time being, knowing that he’d have an opportunity to take it out and lose his mind over it, later.  For now, he was perfectly happy to enjoy this strange, budding friendship with Marinette as well as whatever time he was able to spend with Ladybug. 

She would tell him when she was ready.

Chat Noir smiled again, and this time, it was entirely genuine.


	48. ChloNath, Spoiled Rotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The spoiled rotten heiress gets a dose of reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally going to be my “shopping” drabble for the 25 Days of Miraculous Christmas thing, but that didn’t quite work out. So, I’m posting this as a stand-alone drabble and starting over for the other.

Chloe stormed out of her father’s office and slammed the door behind her, uncaring of the framed watercolor that fell to the floor and broke with the force of the slam.  In the hall, she turned away from the door to her own suite and went to the elevator and jammed the button.  

How dare he, she seethed as she waited for the elevator car.  How dare he do this to her?  How dare he restrict her in this way?  He’d never seen fit to do this before, so why now?  The ass!  The elevator door opened, and Chloe stormed in, utterly ignoring the man already inside.

“Um, Chloe?”

She hit the button for the lobby, then crossed her arms furiously over her chest.  What was he thinking?  She was his _daughter_!

“Hey, are you alright? If this is a bad time, I can come back later.”

She felt a hand at her elbow and stiffened.  Oh hell, no. Who in their right mind would dare to put their hands on her?  She slowly tilted her head down to look at the hand, and it released her as if burned.  Then she slowly tracked her gaze up from the hand still hovering awkwardly near her elbow, along the attached arm, all the way up to the face of Nathaniel Kurtzburg.  

Oh.  Right.  They’d been assigned to work as a team on an essay on contemporary French literature. An essay that was due on Monday.   _Fuck_. Chloe stared at him, entirely nonplussed by his presence.  Of all the people to be here now, to witness her humiliated fury, it just had to be _him_.

The elevator dinged, and the door slid open.  He stepped into the lobby with obvious relief.  “You know what?  This is clearly not a good time for us to work on this report.  I’ll just go home and—”

“What?  No!”  He couldn’t _leave_ , they had an essay to write! How dare he leave her to deal with that on top of everything else?  She grabbed his arm and yanked him back into the elevator, ignoring the startled looks of the people in the lobby.  “No, you have to stay!”   She keyed in her code and then pressed the button to return them to her floor.  

“Ah-alright.”  He cleared his throat awkwardly.  “So, I couldn’t help noticing—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she snapped.

“Right.”  He sighed, and looked up at the scrolling numbers above the door.  

Nathaniel said nothing more after that; he simply followed her out of the elevator and down the hall to her suite.  Inside, Chloe indicated the long red couch with a wave of her hand.  “You can sit there,” she said as she crossed the room to get a bottle of spring water from her in-suite refrigerator, “and start pulling out the materials you brought.”

“Oh, can I?”

“Of course.”  She reclined on her chaise at the end of the couch, and raised the water bottle to her forehead in an effort to dispel the still-lingering flush of anger.  “What have you done so far?”

Nathaniel’s bag hit the floor with a thump, and he regarded her with a surprisingly hostile look.  

“What?  I thought you were here to review what you’ve done.”

His jaw flexed, and he drew a deep breath before speaking.  “No, I’m here so that **we** can review what **we** have done so far, and begin outlining **our** report.”

She straightened and leveled a glare on him.  “You can’t possibly mean that you expect me to actually do any of it, can you?”

He crossed his arms mulishly over his chest.  “I can, and I do.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”  Chloe shot to her feet, clenching her fists angrily.  “First Daddy with his nonsense about ‘growing up’ and ‘taking some responsibility’, and now you, expecting me to do homework?  What the hell is this?”

“I’m pretty sure most people would call them reasonable expectations,” Nathaniel offered dryly.

“Reasonable?” she shrieked. “ _Reasonable?_ How can you say it’s reasonable when I have no idea what I’m doing?  ‘Get a job’, he says, like I would be caught dead working like some peasant, much less have any idea how to go about doing it!  And here you are, expecting me to do research?  Augh!”  

She punctuated that last inarticulate sound with a stamp of her foot, then stalked off toward her bed, which left Nathaniel in the unenviable position of standing awkwardly in the middle of Chloe’s suite with no idea what to say or how to proceed. The simplest thing was to leave, and he was sorely tempted to take that option without further thought.

But…as little as he cared for Chloe’s nonsense, she was genuinely upset about something that was not _entirely_ her own fault.  Her father and his sycophants had indulged her to such an extent that her ability to function without those indulgences had been handicapped.  And from what he’d just heard, it seemed that her father was now expecting her to do just that.  

Nathaniel sighed, mentally cursing himself for being such a soft-hearted fool, and swung himself slowly around to follow Chloe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may or may not pick up the thread of this one in future drabbles. I have no immediate plans to continue it, though, so don’t be looking for it any time soon!


	49. Free Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien's fencing practice is cancelled, and he finds himself with a few hours of unexpected free time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a quick drabble for my beautiful Tumblr wife, @seasonofthegeek, because I wanted to make her smile.

Adrien slipped eagerly out of the school and down the front steps, feeling a sense of freedom that was usually reserved for those times he stole for himself, when he left his room in the guise of a black cat.  But this afternoon, fencing practice had been cancelled at the last minute, and he had a whole two hours of unfilled time that Nathalie knew nothing about. 

Two hours in which to do whatever he wanted, as _himself_.

Adrien felt almost giddy.  But, what to do with himself?  Nino already had plans for the afternoon, and there was no way he was going interrupt his time with Alya.  He paused at the bottom of the steps, and then smiled as his eyes fell on the Dupain-Cheng boulangerie.  He could treat himself to something sweet, and maybe say hi to Marinette as well?  He’d been thinking about her ever since _that night_ , and wondering whether her heart was still bruised.

His mind made up, Adrien hitched his bag higher on his shoulder and crossed the street, heading for the bakery.  Inside, he got the sweet he’d hoped for, but Mrs. Cheng shook her head when he inquired about her daughter.

“I’m sorry, Adrien,” she said, passing him his change.  “She’s studying with Alya this afternoon, but I can tell her that you stopped by, if you like.”

“Really?  But I thought…” He shrugged, thinking that perhaps he’d misheard Nino that morning.  Maybe their date was tomorrow afternoon?  “Never mind.  Can you just tell her that I said hello?”

“Of course, dear.”  Then her smile turned a bit sly, and her eyes twinkled.  “She’ll be sorry that she missed you.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Cheng!”  He turned with a wave and left the bakery, the forbidden éclair clutched tight in his hand.  It was a lovely day—far too nice to sit inside if he didn’t have to—so he took his treat to the park just across the way and claimed a bench near the carousel where he could eat _and_ text Nino at the same time.  (After all, it wouldn’t do to betray his unsanctioned snack by staning his shirt with the evidence.)

There was a group of clamoring children nearby, and he watched them absently as he pulled the éclair from the bag and bit into it. 

The éclair was absolute perfection.  It was fresh and expertly made, with a coffee crème filling and rich chocolate ganache drizzled over the top, and Adrien let his eyes slid closed in pure, unadulterated enjoyment.  After all, treats such as these were rare, and it deserved to be enjoyed.  He swallowed that first, heavenly bite with a happy sigh, and opened his eyes once more.

The children before him had settled, and now, Adrien could see why they’d been so excited in the first place: _Ladybug_.

Adrien almost dropped his éclair in surprise.  What…?

She was seated on a cushion with the group of children ranged around her, sitting on the grass.  They’d quieted now, and Ladybug looked around with a smile as she lifted a book.  He was too far away from her to hear her speak, but it was obvious that she was reading the book to the children.  Adrien smiled, remembering the few pictures he’d seen here and there of a super-hero story time in the park, and realized that he’d stumbled across just such an occasion.  All thoughts of reaching out to Nino vanished.  Instead, he settled back onto the bench to enjoy his snack, happy to watch her expressive face as she read.  By the time he finished, Ladybug had begun a second book.  After discarding his trash in a refuse bin, he wandered closer to listen from the shade of a nearby tree.

Adrien had never heard her read aloud, before.  She was just as vibrant in this as she was in all other things, her voice was just as expressive as her face.  The children were transfixed and so was he—in spite of the fact that he’d read that very book many times as a child.  There was something wonderful about hearing it read aloud, something that reminded him of curling up with his mother as she read to him.  He stayed there, his shoulder perched against the trunk of a tree, until she finished reading and the children dispersed to join their parents.   Only then did he move from beneath the tree.

She stopped abruptly when she saw him and floundered, blushing so widely that he saw it around her mask.  Adrien felt his heart sink.  Did she not want to see him?  He gulped.  “Hey Ladybug.”

“A-Adrien!”  She blinked, and shook her head as if to rattle things into place.  “What are you doing here?  I mean, not that you’re not allowed to be here!  I just didn’t expect to see you.”

“Mr. D’Argencourt went home sick, so my fencing practice was cancelled at the last minute.”   Adrien smiled awkwardly, and rubbed at the back of his head.  “I came here to enjoy a pastry, and saw you reading.”

“Oh!  You heard?”  She ducked her head with a renewed blush.  “I was being so silly.”

“I thought it was awesome!” he said, shaking his head vehemently.  “You were doing it for the kids, and kids love silly.”  Ladybug giggled, and the sound lightened his heart in a way that no other sound could.   Adrien gave himself a mental kick, telling himself to _stay cool_ in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Nino.  He cast about for something else to say, and gestured to the cushion and books still clasped in her arms.  “How did this come about?”

“Oh, that.”  She shrugged.  Do you remember when Manon Chamack was akumatized?  She was the one who used dolls to make people her puppets.”  At his nod— _oh yes, he remembered Manon_ —she continued.  Well, she was pretty shaken afterward, and I offered to meet her here and read her a story.  It just kind of…snowballed after that, and I do it once a month or so.”  

“Really?”  Adrien blinked, thinking back.  “That was months ago.  I’m surprised that the media aren’t all over this.”

Ladybug smiled, and it was the clever, devious smile she wore so often in their battles, when she realized how to use her Lucky Charm to greatest effect.  God, he loved that smile.

“I keep it random, so no one can predict the pattern.  And I’ve made it clear to Ms. Chamack that if it ever does turn into a publicity stunt, that I will stop doing it.  She keeps mum for Manon’s sake.  As for the Ladyblog, the girl who runs it has twin sisters.  She keeps it on the DL for them.” 

“Ahh,” he nodded.  “Makes sense.” 

She nodded back, but apparently didn’t have anything else to say.  The conversation stalled and the quiet between them drew out into the realm of awkwardness. 

“Well, I—” Adrien began.

“So, um—” said Ladybug, speaking at the same time.  They stopped, both of them blushing, and then laughed. 

“Go ahead,” he offered, gesturing for her to continue.

She smiled shyly.  “What will you do with the rest of your free time?”

“I don’t know actually.  I tried to see my friend Marinette, but she wasn’t home, so maybe I’ll try—hey, are you okay?”  She’d made a strange squeaking noise, and her face had turned very red.

“Oh, yeah!  Yeah, fine I’m.  I mean, I’m fine.”  She took a deep breath, and then offered a blindingly bright smile.  “Isn’t Marinette the one who lives above that bakery there?”  She pointed at the Dupain-Cheng boulangerie, and he nodded.  “Well, I’m pretty sure that I just saw her walk inside.  Maybe you should try again?”

His brows rose, and he looked at the bakery again, as if he might be able to see for himself whether she was inside.  “Maybe I should.” 

“Uhh—just, um, you know, walk slow?  Maybe?  To give her a chance to um, to settle in.”

Adrien smiled.  “That’s so thoughtful, Ladybug.  I will.  It was, um, it was good to see you.”

She nodded, bouncing on the balls of her feet.  “You too, Adrien.  I’ll see you soon.” 

And then she was off.  Adrien watched her go with a smile, and then turned back to the bakery.  He might get to see Marinette after all, on top of getting to see Ladybug—and all of it as himself, without a single akuma to get in the way. 

Adrien stuck his hands in his pockets, careful not to jostle his sleeping kwami, and whistled as he wandered back across the park.

 


	50. Elemental Deleted Scene: The Next Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a deleted scene from my Elemental Mages/Merman story, called (unoriginally) Elemental. It takes place immediately after the events of Chapter 9, in which our Marinette and Mer!drien have quite a lot of fun without using protection. There's no sex in this scene, but there are a lot of references to it, so reader beware.
> 
> Elemental fans, rejoice! A full update is on the horizon. :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be the beginning of the next chapter, but then I realized that this scene is not important to the plot of the story and didn't belong there. But I also didn't want to scrap it entirely, so....here you go.

Marinette woke surprisingly early, but was in no hurry to rise.  She was snuggled against Adrien, her arm over his chest and their legs tangled, and it was wonderful.  She sighed contentedly, letting the memories of the night before wash over her as she nuzzled her face against his shoulder.  He stirred a bit, his head turned towards her with an unintelligible murmur, then settled.

She smiled, her lips curving against his bicep.  It was a little surreal, actually.  She’d been attracted to him from the first, and had been half in love with him for as long as she’d known him, but had never expected anything to actually come of it.  Now that it had, well.  She wasn’t sure she’d believe it, if she hadn’t lived through the past week herself.  They’d become so close, so quickly, and it had been as easy as breathing.

And last night!  Last night had been incredible. She’d had only two lovers before, and while the sex had been good, it hadn’t been anything like what she’d experienced the night before.  It certainly hadn’t been so good the first few times, when she and her partners were still learning about themselves and each other.  She was sure that it had been, at least in part, a result of the sexual tension that had been simmering between them all night.  The rest of it had been their mental link, and their shared sensations.  They had chemistry, sure, but that link had allowed them to blow past the awkward process of learning one another’s buttons and go straight for the mind-blowing. 

Marinette shivered with remembered pleasure, and wondered if he’d mind her waking him for a second round.  Alya probably hadn’t been joking about slipping condoms into her drawer, and if she could just slip out of bed without waking him—

Wait.  Condoms. 

They hadn’t used a condom last night.  They’d fucked in the ocean without a condom like a couple of wild people and _she’d let him come inside her without a condom_.

Panic bloomed.  When was her last period?  Were they even genetically compatible?  Was she going to have a little blonde fish baby in nine months?  She couldn’t have a baby at all, much less a fish baby.  But it was probably fine, right?  They probably weren’t compatible.  And he probably didn’t have some weird STD to pass on to her… 

Marinette gulped and slid carefully out of bed, desperate to escape without waking Adrien.  She couldn’t talk to him now, not with her panic well on its way to a full-blown anxiety attack.  She closed the door with a quiet snick and leaned against it, casting about for what to do, and her eyes fell on the door across the hall.

Alya.  She needed Alya.

She barged in without knocking, and without consideration for the fact that it was absurdly early and that Alya was not alone, but she hardly registered the fact that both Alya and Nino were sleeping in the nude.  Later, she would be embarrassed at seeing Nino’s bare body down to his ass, but right now she was single minded in her determination to rouse her friend.

“Alya!” she whisper-shouted, reaching over Nino to shake her shoulder.  “Alya, wake up!  I need you!”

Alya rolled over with a groan, burying her face against Nino.  “Go ‘way.”

“Al-ya, please!  It’s an emergency!”

Alya glared blearily up at Marinette, who’d shoved at her shoulder to push her away from Nino.  “No emergencies before ten.”

Between them, Nino stirred and then stiffened as he became aware that a scantily-clad Marinette was leaning over him, her stomach pressed to his alarmingly bare back.  “Hey, Al?  Why is your best friend about to climb into bed with us?”

Alya rolled to her back and rubbed at her eyes. “Because she’s freaking over finally fucking Adrien and wants me to talk her through it,” she snarked.

Marinette straightened, huffing indignantly.  “No!  I mean, yes, but that’s not—wait, how did you know we—?”

Alya bolted upright on a squeal, taking the covers with her and leaving Nino in the nude.  “Hey!” He flushed a dark red and snatched them back. 

“Wait, you actually did?  I was joking!”

Marinette blushed, but nodded in the affirmative.  “Yes, and now I really need to talk to you.”

“Aww, look at you,” Alya crooned, either oblivious to Marinette’s distress or chalking it up to her usual anxiety.  “All grown up and finally shagging the man of your dreams.”

“Alya, please.”  Marinette bit her lip, fighting tears, and Alya’s eyes widened. 

Nino sat up as well, frowning.  “Marinette, what’s wrong?”

“Was it that bad?”  Alya asked, then she straightened, spine stiff and eyes blazing.  “Did he hurt you?  I swear to God, I will march in there right now and—”

“No!  No, he didn’t hurt me.”  Her eyes flicked to Nino, and she blushed again.  She’d wanted to talk to Alya alone, but Nino was bound to hear about it from Adrien later, so why not?  “And it wasn’t bad.  At all.  It was—it was good.”  She gulped and looked away from her friends’ beaming faces.  “Too good,” she added, starting to panic again.

“Too good? How—oh.”  Alya sighed, shaking her head.  “Oh Marinette, what am I going to do with you?”

Marinette buried her face in her hands and sank onto the bed on a sob. 

Nino looked between them, confused.  “I missed something.  What did I miss?”

Alya ignored him, and wrapped an arm around Marinette’s shoulders.  “I’m sure it’ll be fine.  I mean, he pulled out right?  And the odds of you getting knocked up from just the once are pretty slim.”

“Oohhh,” Nino breathed in understanding, as Marinette stiffened and then leaned into Alya’s shoulder, now crying openly.

Alya pushed Marinette away to stare incredulously at her tear-streaked face. “Do you mean to tell me that he didn’t pull out?  And you didn’t push him off?”

“N-no,” she wailed in reply.  “It was just so—and then I was—and then he was—and then it was cold, and we came back here and—”

Alya shook her head, her brows raised.  “Hang on, back up.  You went somewhere?”

“The beach,” Marinette nodded.

“You got freaky at the beach?”

Another nod.

“And it was so good that you were so totally lost to the moment that it never occurred to either of you to wrap up or pull out?”

Another nod, this one accompanied by a somewhat dreamy expression.

“Damn,” said Nino, sounding impressed.  “I had no idea my boy had it in him.”

“Alright.  So maybe your freak out this morning was warranted.  But—not to worry.  Auntie Alya’s got you.”  She pressed a kiss to Marinette’s head, then crawled off of the bed, uncaring of her nudity.  She and Alya were close enough to be unconcerned with modesty, and of course Nino was already well acquainted with her body.  Still, she grabbed her t-shirt from the night before and tugged it over her head, before going to her dresser for a clean pair of panties.  Once all of the important bits were covered, she pulled her underwear drawer out further, and reached to the very back, groping blindly for something.  “Ah-ha!  I knew I had it in there.”

Marinette eyes the tiny brown paper bag dubiously.  “What is it?” 

“Morning after pill.  Remember when we had that scare about six months ago, when I missed a day in my pack but then got too horny to care?”  Both Marinette and Nino nodded, and she tossed the bag to Marinette.  “I bought two, so that I’d have an extra one on hand, just in case.”

Marinette closed her eyes and breathed a deep sigh of relief.  “Alya, you’re the best.”

“The catch is that now you have to let me lecture you both on the importance of being careful before you shag.”

Marinette groaned, knowing full well that Alya was not joking.  Nino just laughed.

 

Adrien woke slowly, feeling groggy and wrung out and a little confused.  He blinked, bringing the room into focus, and remembered.  Marinette.  He sat up with a frown, looking at the empty spot in the bed next to him.  When he’d fallen asleep the night before, he’d been looking forward to waking up next to her, but the place beside him was cold. 

He was disappointed, but if he was lucky, there would be other opportunities for morning snuggles.  And other things.

He rose and dressed, then left her room to see that all three of his friends were already up, and in the kitchen.  They’d been chatting amiably, until Alya’s eyes fell on him and her face darkened.

“Um, good morning?” he offered, confused by her apparent hostility.  He looked to Marinette, who looked down at her coffee with a blush, and then at Nino, who shrugged with a smirk.  He looked at Alya again.  “Did I do something wrong?”

“Adrien Agreste, did you fuck my girl without a condom last night?  Even after I so generously supplied her room with some from my own stash?”

Adrien felt the blood drain from his face, and looked at Marinette in alarm.  “Oh, fuck,” he breathed.  That hadn’t occurred to him, at all, and it should have.  It really should have.

“Yeah, ‘oh fuck’ is right.  Now, luckily for you, I was prepared for just such a circumstance, so as long as you’re clean…?”  She paused, allowing him an opportunity to nod, indicating that yes, he was disease-free, and she nodded in satisfaction.  “No harm done.  But from now on, you wrap that shit up, got it?”

Adrien nodded, quailing, but Nino snorted.  “This from the woman who had a morning-after pill on hand because she herself needed one not so long ago.”

She shot him a murderous look, then returned her attention to Adrien.  “I was stupid, so do as I say and not as I do.  I won’t have you knocking up my girl before she’s ready for it.”

“Enough, Alya,” Marinette groaned, blushing hotly at the insinuation that she would at some point want him to ‘knock her up’.  “It was my fault as much as it was his, so give him a break.”

“Fair enough.”  Alya nodded, then stood with a bright smile.  “Now, who wants crepes?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all of my younger readers, please bear with me, as I have to do the Mom Thing© here for a minute.
> 
> The moral of the story, boys and girls, is to be safe. Condoms protect not only against pregnancy, but against STDs as well. I know they suck, I fucking hate condoms, but undesired consequences suck worse. Have your fun, but be smart about it. Use your brain and be SAFE.

**Author's Note:**

> If you would like to request something, please visit my Tumblr and ask away. https://youcancallmecirce.tumblr.com/


End file.
